On Wings of Steel
by 26 Combo
Summary: AU: They say he has golden locks that drape over his broad shoulders along with a rough and worn face. He was garbed in a tattered and beaten cloak, said to be colored red with the blood of his enemies. But the one thing that stood out above all was his metal arm and leg, believed to be granted to him by the devil himself as a reward for cheating death one too many times.
1. Chapter 1

_**On Wings of Steel**_

 _ **~Chapter 1~**_

 _Summary:_ They say he's got golden locks that drape over his broad shoulders, and a rough and worn face. He was garbed in a tattered and beaten cloak, said to be colored red with the blood of his enemies. But the one thing that stood out above all was his metal arm and leg, said to be granted to him by the devil himself as a reward for cheating death one too many times.

 _A/N: Salutations! This idea had been writing itself in my head for quite some time, so I decided to give it a bit of attention XD_

 _This story takes place in a completely different AU that has nothing to do with Amestris. Most of the characters' relationships to each other are the farthest thing from canonical, so you've been warned :) The world contains elements of the Mad Max movies, fantasy, and a bit of steampunk so its definetely a unique mix that manifested in my imagination._

 _I hope you enjoy, it would mean the world to me if I can put a smile on your face!_

* * *

The world wasn't like it used to be; nothing resembled the old. It was a harsh and inhospitable place that bred pain and suppression, a world where only the strong survived and the weak kneeled to the corrupt government - because if there was one thing a person learned at a young age, it was that there are three kinds of people: the masters at the table, the dogs who begged, and the rats that stole what crumbs they could find.

Within those three, however, lied another breed of human beings: outlaws.

And amongst the outlaws there was one of legend, a man never to mess around with. They say he's got golden locks that drape over his broad shoulders, and a rough and worn face that boasts a single large scar over his right cheek. He was garbed in a tattered and beaten cloak, said to be colored red with the blood of his enemies. He was unforgiving and unforgetting, and he never missed his target. But the one thing that stood out above all was his metal arm and leg, said to be granted to him by the devil himself as a reward for cheating death one too many times.

His name?

No one knows, no one wants to. The only thing he's known by is Fullmetal, the man that rides on wings of steel.

* * *

"Pick your poison," invited the bartender as he dried a beer glass, the dirty rag squeaking in unison.

The diner was a run down, oval building, with a retro look that consisted of chrome trimming on the outside and a checkered floor with 50's diner décor inside. It was in the middle of a wasteland with nothing around for miles, and was respectively called "North of Nowhere." The place was a humble diner/bar that had an old-school quality to it, the jukebox always playing old songs as the checkered tile aged and cracked with time.

"Something hard," the blond-locked man grunted, resting his hands on the counter.

The bartender nodded and reached for a bottle of liquor, popping off the top and pouring it into a shot glass. "Hardest shit we have, you an outlaw?" he asked.

The customer didn't reply as he pulled up the long sleeve of his crimson coat, revealing a large gash on his left arm. Without a flinch or any grunt of pain, he poured the alcohol on his wound.

"How'd you get that?" the diner owner inquired while he shook his head and retrieved the glass. He chuckled to himself, "Never mind, it's better I don't know."

The red-coated customer rolled his sleeve back down before eyeing the bartender again.

"Do you have milk?"

Caught off guard, the bartender simply reached into a beat up fridge and revealed a glass bottle of milk.

"That your poison?" he asked as he handed it over.

The blond took the bottle and poured himself a shot of it, pressing the glass to his dry lips as he whipped his head back. "Damn I hate this shit," he muttered just loud enough to be heard.

"Milk? You're defiantly odd," laughed the owner as he scooped up the now-milky glass, walking over to rinse it under the sink. "Heard about the latest victim of the government?"

All he received was silence and a curious look.

"Well," the bartender continued, "I heard they found some rich kid who knew how to perform alchemy. Sent the boor bastard straight to the Capitol. His parent's were supposed to be real dicks, shipping him off to preserve their good name."

"Sounds about right," replied the customer.

Suddenly the song that was playing began to skip, repeating the same line over and over again.

"Been meaning to fix that damned thing, annoys the hell out of me when it happens," the diner owner muttered irritably.

The customer grinned and slapped the counter with his hands, his right one making an audible metal clang.

"Thanks for the drink," he said.

"Which one?" asked the bartender. "The one you poured over your arm, or the damn milk?"

The outlaw hid his subtle smile, remaining silent while he clapped his hands together before placing one on the repeating jukebox.

"There, consider that my payment."

A lighting-like aura surrounded the jukebox as the mysterious man walked out of the restaraunt, the song now playing perfectly as the jukebox was made brand new.

"Hey, thanks. Was that...?" the bar owner shook his head and returned to cleaning glasses, a grin forming on his lips. "Don't see that every day," he mused to himself.

Outside, the red-cloaked man took a deep breath as the door shut behind him. The old diner was surrounded by desert in every direction, the wasteland traveling for miles on end. The sky was a clear and vibrant blue that held several large moons and the giant planet known as Saturn. The moons were much larger than normal, the craters as large as a regular sized moon. Saturn, however, was even larger; only half the planet able too be seen at any given time. The other half is constantly hidden by the horizon. Its ring cut across the fantasy-like sky, paving a path of the space debris and asteroids that built it.

The wind began to blow as the blond outlaw trotted down the rotten, wooden stairs and eyed a motorcycle. It was made of bare sheet metal with rust covering most of the body, and it had a chopper ride to it and a banged up plate on the back that read "Fullmetal." With a satisfactory grin the man sat down on the worn leather seat, tracing an etching of angel wings on the gas tank with his finger. Under the engraving was a simple saying:

 _"On wings of steel I ride."_

With a turn of a key the motorcycle started up with a loud rumble, the engine idling and loping in a low and ear vibrating tone. He twisted the throttle and slowly took off into the vast, empty wasteland.

On he rode, his tattered and ripped coat flapping in the wind as he drove without caution or restraint. His blonde hair ruffled as he continued through the wasteland, an ammo belt vibrating against his chest while he gripped a shotgun that sat in a mounted holster on the side of his bike. He would ride with the moons to his back and the massive planet in front of him for most of the day, his spiked, steel-toed boots tapping a rhythm on the running board. He had a mission, a job to do that would pay for his next several meals. It was of course, illegal, but then again nothing about the Fullmetal was government approved.

* * *

"Sir!" saluted several soldiers as a high ranking soldier passed them and made his way through the hall. He was garbed in a faded blue military uniform that had used to be a brilliant shade of blue, but now was worn down after years of service.

"I've got the bastard this time," he stated to the lieutenant at his side, a big grin gracing his face. "That Fullmetal won't get away - not today."

"Sir," his blonde lieutenant spoke up, trying to keep her pace up with her eager superior. "Are you sure you have him _this_ time? I mean, you've been hunting him for years."

The black-haired man paused and looked her over as she stared back at him.

"Damn right I do," he said confidently. "One of my trusted sources just revealed that he's on his way to a government arms warehouse in the eastern district. It's all wasteland out there, so it's a perfect place to store munitions. He can't run, not this time - not even Fullmetal can hide in the middle of nowhere."

"Sir!" agreed the lieutenant as they kept on walking. Their pace quickened before they eventually reached a car that awaited them outside the Capitol building, a large building where all the high ranking government officials resided to maintain their corrupt rule over the country. The grand yet old building lies within an empty city, all of its residents having been kicked out long ago. Their homes and businesses got turned into store houses and supply rooms, making the once lively place an active military base. Ever since being forced to move, the ex-residents found refuge in the slums and other types of living. The rich, however, were granted exclusive living quarters within the Capitol walls.

"I'll drive," said the high ranking man as he got in the car, gripping the steering wheel as he waited for his lieutenant to join him.

"Mustang," the blonde lieutenant addressed now that they were alone. "You sure you don't want _any_ backup?"

The car started and took off, revealing the answer to her question.

"No, Hawkeye, this son of a bitch is all mine," the man called Mustang stated, determination laced in his voice.

Hawkeye watched as he drove with fire in his eye; his left eye was covered by an eye patch, and she realized that the man before her was determined to catch the Fullmetal at all costs. It had been his life goal ever since the outlaw had made himself known.

"And what happens when you catch him, sir?"

Mustang grinned and kept his eyes fixed on the road, the gas pedal slowly growing closer to the floorboard.

"I'm going to put a bullet in his damn skull."

* * *

The loud motorcycle came to a stop, the engine ceasing as its rider observed his target. In front of him were three tall, rectangular connected buildings that used to serve as apartments long ago. Now the building cluster rests in the middle of nowhere. Inside the middle of the three buildings was an arms warehouse that the government kept secret. To your average passerby it would seem like a long forgotten memory, but to an outlaw it was a perfect cash store of weapons.

With a sigh, Fullmetal arose from his bike and grabbed the shotgun out of its holster.

"Let's just get this done and over with," he muttered to himself.

The blond left the bike and made his way to the crumbling buildings. Upon reaching the front door of the apartment he flicked the shotgun up with one hand, pulling the trigger and blowing away the doorknob. The outlaw then proceeded to kick the door down, alerting the soldiers inside of his presence.

"Hey! What the hell do you think your doing?!" exclaimed the surprised guards. They were quickly silenced, however, with a spray of shotgun shells that drowned out their screams. The crimson-coated man observed his surroundings, following the faint voice that came from upstairs. After ascending the decayed staircase, Fullmetal looked around and kicked in a door that was partially open.

"This is arms house number twelve out In the eastern district, we're under att-," the soldier on the radio was quickly stopped with a round to his back.

"Sorry pal, but I don't need your friends coming around," Fullmetal chuckled as he shot up the radios and receivers that were scattered around the room. The shot gun wielder then opened the barrel of his modified shotgun and loaded several more shells, whipping the barrel back in place before exiting.

"Now where would you keep a store of weapons?" he asked himself as he exited the radio room and looked around. There was no way that the guns would be down stairs - it's far too accessible to intruders like him. No, they'd make him climb upstairs. But he _was_ upstairs, so where would they be? It wasn't in the room behind him - that was the radio station. And by the looks of it, there were only two more doors left in the small building, so it had to be one of them.

With a sigh the outlaw crossed the narrow hallway and kicked in the first door on his right, finding a cowardice soldier huddling in the corner.

"P-please don't kill me, I heard the commotion down stairs and I didn't want to die, honest," the soldier pleaded.

The shotgun wielder laughed and pointed the double barrel in his face. "Then tell me where the stores are," he demanded.

The cowering soldier shook his head and flinched, covering his face with his hands. "I-I can't! That would be treason, and the government would do terrible things if they found-," a loud bang suddenly shut the babbling man up.

"Simply hiding is treason enough for them," the outlaw said angrily.

Fullmetal exited the room and looked to his right, eyeing the last door upstairs. His heavy steel-toed boots clunked on the wooden floor as he approached the ajar door, kicking it in and raising his gun to meet yet another face. But this time it wasn't a soldier, it was a young boy.

"What the hell?" the outlaw paused, slowly lowering his gun in bewilderment. In front of him sat a small boy that couldn't be any older than ten years old. He had short, brownish-blonde hair, with golden eyes that stared back in fear. The kid was dressed in a red, faded and dirty hoodie with jeans and well worn sneakers.

"H-hello mister," the boy greeted. Fullmetal stared at him a moment longer before rubbing his forehead.

"What the hell is a kid like you doing here?" he questioned.

"Well," the brownish blonde began, "I was taken by soldiers. They caught me and forced me to come here so they could transfer me to the Capitol."

The red coated outlaw shook his head and looked around, noticing that there were no guns.

"Listen kid, where do they keep the guns here?"

The small kid froze, unsure of what to say.

"I don't have time for this!" exclaimed Fullmetal as he raised the shotgun to meet the boy's eyes. "Spit it out kid, I don't have all day."

The golden-eyed boy gulped and jumped up, running over to the back wall of the room. He grabbed the horizontal chair railing on the wall, rotating it until it was vertical, inevitably creating a door handle. The kid then tugged and pulled on the newly created leverage point until the wall began to open like a sliding glass door, revealing rows of guns on weapon racks along with a duffel bag.

"H-here. I've s-seen them open it before," the younger of the two quickly stuttered.

"That's a good boy," Fullmetal complimented as he reached for the bag that was hidden within the stash, pulling guns off their racks and stuffing them in it.

"That should do it."

The outlaw lifted the bag onto his shoulder, proceeding the leave the room.

"Wait!" the boy suddenly cried, stopping the blonde-locked man. "C-can I come with you?"

Fullmetal slowly turned around and looked at the young kid with a mix of confusion and annoyance. After a minute he answered,

"No, I need to get going and I ride alone. I don't need some brat to look after."

Before he could leave, however, a siren was heard outside.

"Fullmetal!" cried a man's voice over a megaphone. "I know you're in there you asshole. Come out or I'll come in!"

The outlaw walked back into the room and glanced out the window. There was no need for it, though; he could tell who it was simply by that annoying voice.

"Now how the hell did _this_ bastard know I was here?" he grunted through gritted teeth.

"You can take him, right?" encouraged the boy. "I mean, you took out all these other soldiers. Can't you kill one more guy?"

Fullmetal grinned and shook his head. "No kid, this bastard is different. He's not your average man... he can control the fires of hell."

The golden-eyed kid gulped and stood on his tiptoes to look out the window, curiosity swelling up inside of him.

"What's your name kid?" the outlaw asked.

The boy finished peering out the window and looked up at the rough and intimidating man before him.

"I'm Alphonse," he answered with a small smile.

"Well then, Alphonse," the outlaw smiled back, "You're going to help me get out of here."


	2. Chapter 2

_**~Chapter 2~**_

* * *

"What the hell is he doing?" observed a concerned Hawkeye, glancing over to her superior, who was barricaded behind the open car door.

"He's wanting out of here," was the reply.

In the doorway of the crumbling apartment stood Fullmetal with a shot gun to Al's head, a smirk painted on his face. On the opposite end was Roy behind the open car door, his gun and head visible through the window. Riza had her gun out as well, crouched down behind Mustang.

"You're not getting out of here, Fullmetal!" yelled the soldier, his single eye burning with the desire of bloodshed.

Fullmetal grinned and descended the small stairs, pressing the barrel of the gun deeper into the back of the boy's head. There was no way he was going to be killed by that eye patched freak. Not today.

"You'll let me go, _Mustang,_ " hissed the blond, adding emphasized disgust to his enemy's name. "Or the kid dies."

"Sir," addressed the lieutenant worriedly. "We can't let him kill an innocent child."

Roy smirked confidently and kept his hand gun pointed at the red cloaked man.

"You won't kill him! You can't!" he cried back.

"The hell I can't!" responded the blond angrily, taking a few steps closer to the armed car.

Mustang laughed to himself,

"You won't though! If you do I'll have no more reserve for putting lead in your damn skull!"

The outlaw fell silent for a moment, his confidence in his plan fading slightly. Mustang was right - if he _did_ kill Al, he would have no more leverage. So what was the point? The point was that he wasn't alone, Alphonse _would_ help him get out of there.

"So, no back up Mr. officer? No one wanted to aid you in your endeavor?" mocked the red coated blond, attempting to get inside the soldier's head. Mustang simply scoffed at him, however.

"I came here on my own, scum, because I wanted the privilege of killing you myself."

Offender and defender entered a stare down, one gun aimed at Fullmetal and one at Alphonse, both ready pull the trigger at any given moment.

"Listen kid," Fullmetal whispered after a few minutes, an idea sparking suddenly in his head. "I want you to run to them."

"What?" was the boy's confused response.

"I want you to _run_ over and join them."

"What about you?" Al questioned, showing a bit of concern for his captor.

"I'll be fine, trust me."

Alphonse sighed and nodded, taking off and running towards the car. It was as if it all happened in slow motion; Al took off towards the soldiers, causing Mustang to waver for a moment. As the boy ran, Roy decided to hold any gunfire to ensure Al's safe arrival, inevitably giving the Fullmetal a small window of opportunity. The outlaw took advantage of it and clapped his hands together, slamming them into the ground as an alchemic aura surrounded the contact point. Before anyone could react, a wall of earth raised up and separated the red-coated blond and the solider.

"Damn!" yelled Mustang, lowering his gun as soon as the wall obscured his vision of the outlaw. "Don't let him get away!"

The black haired man reacted quickly, jumping in the car and slamming the door as he mashed the gas petal.

"Sir, wait!" cried Hawkeye as the car sped off without her, kicking up dust in her face while she watched the tail lights speed away. Her attention was then brought to the red-hoodied boy standing next to her.

"Are you okay?" she asked between coughs, looking over at him.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Al replied. A small grin grew on his face when he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine start up.

Meanwhile, Roy rounded the Earth wall only to find the Fullmetal on his bike, popping a wheelie as he took off.

"You're not getting away, asshole," Mustang grunted to himself as he sped up, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

The rusted and outlawish bike sped away with the red cloaked figure in its saddle. Fullmetal still gripped his shotgun, cocking it and looking back as he aimed for the trailing car.

"Lead in _my_ skull?" he mused to himself as he squeezed the trigger, sending a spray of shells towards the car.

"Shit!" cried Roy to himself as he swerved out of the way. He grunted and instinctively reached for the handgun on the seat next to him, a smirk growing on his face.

"Two can play at that."

Fullmetal reached the end of the wall, whipping around its corner as Hawkeye and Al came into view. Right behind him, however, was Mustang in his car. A few shots rang out as Roy shot through the windshield, shattering the glass while hoping to hit the rider.

"You'll have to do better than that!" yelled the blond on the motorcycle, reaching back and firing another round out of his shotgun. This time the spray connected to the front of the car.

"Move!" yelled Hawkeye as she scooped Al up in her arms, running away and barley dodging the oncoming vehicles. "What the hell are they thinking?!"

The outlaw twisted his wrist all the way, fully opening up the motorcycle's throttle. The engine grew louder as he increased his speed, Hawkeye and Al shrinking behind him.

 _"Sorry kid, but I've gotta go,"_ he thought to himself, recalling Al's wish to join him.

Fullmetal was pulled from his thoughts as a bullet grazed his metal arm, the sound ringing off as it ricocheted.

"Shit...,"

If he were to look back, he would find a smirking officer trailing close behind with a gun aimed right at him. Fullmetal began swerving from side to side in an attempt to throw off Mustang's aim, switching patterns often as to keep the soldier guessing - a technique he learned many years ago.

"Nice try, outlaw," Roy smirked to himself as he aimed in a straight line instead of following the swerving bike with his gun, years of experience coming into play. His finger squeezed the trigger as the bullet launched off, connecting to the rear fender of the bike.

"Damn," the Fullmetal grunted, reaching into his flapping ammo belt to retrieve several more shotgun shells. As he rode on, he flicked open the barrel with one hand, sliding the shells into place as he snapped it back.

"Screw you asshole!"

And with that, the blond turned back and fired several rounds straight into the car's radiator, causing water to spray everywhere.

"No, no, no! Shit! Dammit!" cursed Mustang as the car began to overheat, its cooling system now damaged beyond repair. The engine soon died, leaving the car to coast to a stop. The officer could be seen pounding the steering wheel in a fit of rage as the bike sped away.

Fullmetal laughed victoriously to himself, turning around and passing the dead car and frustrated officer, Hawkeye and Al slowly growing closer on the horizon.

"Hey! Hey!" cried Alphonse, waving his hands in the air as the outlaw drew closer.

"What are you doing?" scolded Riza, wondering where her superior was.

"Hey! Mr. outlaw!" Al cried again, the bike much closer this time.

"Stop that!" commanded the lieutenant, holding his arms down. Al looked frustrated by it. "We're taking you back to the Capitol."

"No!" the boy shouted with fear laced in his voice, desperately trying to squirm his way out of her hold. "I'm not going! I don't wanna!"

Fullmetal slowed down at the sight of the commotion, passing the two slowly as he made eye contact with Al.

 _"Sorry kid_ , _"_ he thought to himself.

The outlaw returned his eyes to the empty wasteland ahead of him, speeding up a little bit.

"No! Don't go! Please!" Alphonse screamed as he heard the engine grow louder, signaling that Fullmetal was speeding up. The boy furiously began wiggling, successfully breaking free of his captor's grasp and sprinting off after the bike.

"Slow down! Stop!" he frantically cried as the red coated man grew farther away. Al kept on shouting, running as fast as his little legs would carry him.

"Please!" he yelled again, his throat becoming dry from the shouting and the dust. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, flying off his face and into the wind as he ran on. He ignored the burning in his chest and the aching in his legs, his sights focused solely on the outlaw - because he couldn't be alone... not again.

"Don't leave me!"

The blond man looked back, frowning when he saw the red-hoodied boy running after him. He couldn't take a kid, he told himself, he rode solo. There was no way he would babysit a stupid brat. But as fate would have it, Alphonse's cries and pleas rode on the wind until they reached his ears.

 _"I cant...,"_

The outlaw went to speed up, but before he could twist the accelerator something inside of him changed. He felt something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

Compassion...

 _"Dammit kid...,"_

Fullmetal hit the brakes, the chopper coming to a stop as the engine idled. Why the hell was he stopping? What made him care?

Alphonse picked up his pace as soon as he noticed the bike growing closer, a hopeful smile growing on his face. It wasn't long before the boy was panting and huffing beside it.

"What are you doing kid?" the outlaw asked.

Al huffed and wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Th-thanks f-for s-s-stopping, mister," the boy panted. "C-can I come with you?"

The outlaw shook his head and observed the kid that stood before him.

"Why would I want _you_?" he questioned.

Alphonse stood up straighter and took a deep breath, now able to respond without panting.

"Well," he began confidently, "I can fight, I've used a gun before, I'm loyal, and I can follow directions. I can keep a secret and I'm really tough."

Fullmetal would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly impressed by the ten-year-old's courage and guts, chasing after an _outlaw_ and asking to ride along, even aftera _shotgun_ was held to his head.

"That's quite a resume," teased the outlaw.

"What's a resume?" the boy questioned back innocently.

The rider shook his head, a very subtle smile forming on his lips.

"Hop on before I change my mind," he demanded, his voice lacking any patience.

"Ok! Uh, I mean... yes sir!" Alphonse fumbled, hopping onto the seat behind the driver, a large grin plastered on his face.

"Hold on."

The outlaw hit the gas, popping a wheelie as they took off. Why a wheelie? Maybe it was his style, or maybe he enjoyed it... or maybe it was to impress Alphonse. He wasn't quite sure.

"How do you know where to go out here?" the boy yelled over the rushing wind, referencing the vast wasteland.

"The moons and Saturn," was the answer.

"How does that help?" Al questioned further.

Fullmetal sighed; he wasn't in the mood for a curious mind.

"Saturn is north, the moons are south. From there I can build a compass."

The boy nodded to himself, observing the several large moons in front of them. "So, we're heading south?" he guessed.

"Yup."

"How long will it take?"

"As long as it will take."

"That's not really an answer...,"

"You know, you're extra weight. I can just kick you off so I can go faster."

"No! Its okay, really!"

They fell silent for a while, Al's arms wrapped around Fullmetal's torso as he noticed the moons in the sky slowly fade away as night time began to settle in.

There was no sun on the planet, the daylight being a result of the reflection of the several moons in the sky. You really couldn't tell the difference between the moonlight and sunlight because of the many moons; the main difference being that the moonlight was much softer on the eyes. As the moons followed their path across the sky, their light eventually dimmed; resulting in what we could call nighttime. In other words, the moons rose and set just like a sun; day and night determined by the amount of light reflected off their surface.

"So, what's you're name? I'm Alphonse by the way."

Fullmetal kept his gaze forward. "You already told me your name."

"Oh, right," Al recalled. "So... what's your name?"

"I don't have a name."

"You don't have _any_ name?"

"No, people call me Fullmetal."

"Why do they call you that?"

The outlaw shrugged carelessly.

"I guess because of my arm and leg," he answered while he rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a metal arm.

"Woah! That's cool!" Al exclaimed, childish fascination evident on his face.

"Eh, it can come in handy."

Fullmetal rolled his sleeve back down. "But most people view it as a curse."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Well I think it's cool. Can I have one?"

The red-coated man shook his head.

"You don't want one, trust me."

"But you just said it came in handy."

The outlaw fell silent, not indulging into the boy's curiosity. But Al wasn't finished yet.

"So, what _is_ your name?"

"I told you, it's Fullmetal."

"No, I mean the name you were born with."

"Never told anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because."

Al sighed and let his head droop in defeat; there was no way to unlock the vault within the outlaw.

"Your not very good at conversing...," he complained.

Silence.

"Where _are_ we going?"

"Somewhere."

"Where is somewhere?"

Fullmetal sighed, exasperated. "My hideout."

"Hideout?" Al exclaimed with reinvigorated excitement. "Is it cool?"

"I guess."

"Does it have a bunch of guns? And guard dogs? And laser traps? And pit falls? And spikes? Is it hidden?"

The red-coated outlaw took a deep breath. "Yes, no, no, no, sort of."

"So what are you going to do with the guns?"

"Sell them."

"Why not keep them?"

"Because I have all the guns I need."

"Do you have a lot?"

"No."

"How many?"

"One."

The outlaw patted the shot gun that rested in its make shift holster.

"Just one?" Al frowned, slightly disappointed.

"Yep, that's all I need. It only takes one bullet to kill, no more and no less."

Alphonse nodded, "Yeah, I guess. But it would be cooler if you had more."

The duo kept on riding into the wasteland, the temperature dropping as night time fell. The moons began to disappear as the reflected light dimmed, stars littering the entire sky. It really was a beautiful sight as the sky changed from a vibrant blue to black and dark purple.

The outlaw felt a head rest on his back as the boy drifted off to sleep, his grip loosening as he dozed. On they rode under the starry sky, the bike leaving a trail of dust in the vast wasteland.

They were but a single speck in a sea of nothingness.

* * *

 _And... WHABAM! chapter 2! XD_

 _This chapter had been brooding inside my head for awhile, so it all just flooded out my fingertips when I got to type it. I really hope you enjoyed it, I put this one through the editing wringer :)_

 _Also! I want to thank everyone who favorite, followed, and or reviewed. I mean seriously. You're amazing. Its you guys who put a smile on my face; well you and good food XD haha!_

 _Anyways, I would love to hear your thoughts on the story and stay tuned for chapter three because I've already written it! You know, in my head._

 _~Hope you have a wonderful and blessed Easter!~_


	3. Chapter 3

_**~Chapter 3~**_

* * *

Light flickered in and out as darkness turned to light, then to darkness, then back to light again.

"W-where am I?" wondered Alphonse, sitting up and noticing the ripped and worn leather couch he was laying on. Right away the boy realized that he was in a garage - the giveaway being the concrete flooring, the tool boxes, and the big, dented garage door. Inside the garage there was a ripped and well-worn sofa, a beaten and battered reclining chair, and a coffee table in between the two. In the corner laid an old and stained fridge with a crooked door, and nearby was the familiar motorcycle he had been riding on earlier.

"You're awake," a gruff, older voice spoke. Alphonse turned to face the speaker,

"Where are we?" he asked, his curiosity and sense of adventure flaring up again once he remembered what had happened.

"My hideout," the outlaw replied, using his metal digit to pry the lid off his bottle of beer.

"But... this is a garage," the boy observed, obvious disappointment laced in his voice. He had clearly been expecting something more exciting.

The red-coated man shrugged carelessly and sat down in the recliner, taking a gulp from his bottle of beer.

"If you don't like it, don't stay," he bluntly offered.

Alphonse was quick to shake his head and adjusted his position on the sofa.

"Nah, Its cool," he said. "I could get used to it."

The outlaw chuckled and pressed the cool glass to his lips again. "Who said you're staying?"

The red-hoodied boy smiled. "I thought we were partners - you know, buddies now."

Fullmetal grinned behind his golden-locks, slightly amused by the boy's assumption.

"We're not _buddies._ "

Al shrugged his shoulders casually and smirked.

"Then why'd you save me?"

The outlaw took another sip of his beer. "You've got a lot of balls for being a kid, you know."

Alphonse stood up and stretched, looking around at his options of entertainment. He turned to face the blond and asked,

"Anything fun to do around here?"

Fullmetal watched as the boy began to explore the garage, searching for anything to occupy his ten-year-old attention span.

"Just tools and a radio," he replied.

Al sighed and observed the duffle bag of guns they had stolen, then looked back to the red coated man.

"When's the deal going down?"

Fullmetal once again chuckled at Al, amused by how he was trying to act much older than he was.

"The deal?" the outlaw questioned, even though he knew what was being asked.

"Yeah, you know, the deal. When do you sell the guns?"

"None of your business."

"Sure it is," Al replied stubbornly.

The outlaw sighed and eyed the young boy before him. "And how the hell is it your damn business?"

Alphonse smiled confidently and took a seat on the sofa, looking back at the Fullmetal with excitement in his eyes.

"I see it like this," the boy began. "You'll want me because it's better if we can both put the pressure on whoever is buying the weapons. I mean, if we play good-cop and bad-cop we'll be able to sell them for more."

The outlaw was truly amused by the plan that Al was creating, and _especially_ the fact that he was so into it.

"And who'll be the bad cop and good cop?" he asked.

Al grinned, excited that he was being indulged.

"I can play the bad cop; I'm really good at it. And you'll be the good cop. You can try to sell it to them for a set price, and I'll get mean and say we should sell them for more - you know, the maniac tactic."

Fullmetal couldn't help but give a small laugh, sitting up to continue his amusement. "The maniac tactic?" he asked. It was obviously a name Alphonse had assigned to his idea.

"Yeah," Al shrugged casually. "You know, make em' think one of us is a maniac. Kind of like a scare tactic."

"And _you'll_ be the maniac?"

Alphonse nodded. "Yup, I figured since I've pretty much perfected it I should be the one to do it. Besides, you're too blunt and boring to be a maniac."

A grin graced the face of the outlaw. "You've done this before?"

Al leaned back and crossed his leg over his other one, stretching out his arms and resting them on the head of the couch. "Yeah, you know, I've done this like... a lot. I'm pretty much a professional at it. You'll definitely want me in on the action."

Fullmetal nodded slowly and leaned back into his chair, examining the kid that sat in front of him.

"So you think it would work?" the outlaw asked, not believing a single word Al had said so far.

"Yeah, I think it would," responded the boy with a business man attitude.

"No." Fullmetal said while standing up and finally cutting off the conversation, believing it to be ridiculous from the start.

"What? What do you mean no?!" Al exclaimed, shocked at the decision.

"I mean you're not coming with me."

"But you just said-,"

"I didn't say anything."

Alphonse got up and followed the outlaw to his motorcycle. "You have to take me!"

"No means no, quit whining," the blond grunted and eyed the boy. "Stay here, I have to take a piss."

Fullmetal sighed and walked outside and out of view, relieving himself before returning to his bike.

"Man...," Al muttered disappointedly to himself as he waited for the outlaw to return, dropping his shoulders and sighing heavily.

"Okay...," the red coated man addressed, fiddling with his zipper as he reappeared. "I have to head out, so you just stay put. Got it?"

Al frowned in defeat. He knew arguing would get him nowhere. "Whatever...,"

The outlaw smiled and sat down on the bike, inserting the key into the keyhole. "Now I should be back before it gets dark, so don't get into trouble or do anything stupid."

He started the bike and twisted the throttle.

"I wouldn't do anything stupid," Al denied, keeping his hands behind his back.

Fullmetal grinned.

"Yeah you would."

And with that he took off, exiting the open garage door and speeding off, leaving Alphonse to occupy himself. A grin formed on the boy's face as the bike took off down the cracked and worn road leaving tire tracks on the asphalt.

"I wont do anything stupid," he said. "Just a little target practice for fun."

The mischievous boy pulled his arms from behind his back, revealing a hand gun that he had swiped from the duffle bag, his grin growing even larger.

* * *

"What's our losses?" demanded Roy with irritation in his voice. He and Riza had made it back to the Capitol thanks to the emergency E-VAC, and no one dared to give him a hard time about it. The black-haired man was now back at his desk, addressing the soldier that kept logs of the raided warehouse.

"W-well Sir," the shaky soldier replied. "The outlaw managed to steal our entire store of weapons, consisting of three AK-47's... two M4's... four 9mm's... and a couple of .44's."

"Anything on the boy?" Mustang asked. The soldier flinched under his glare and stammered, even with an eye patch Roy's glare could burn a hole in your head.

"Y-yes sir! According to several eye witnesses and a couple of reports, the boy in the red hoodie is an alchemy prodigy that has been evading us for quite some time. He tends to use his alchemy to help the poor."

Roy huffed and waved away the soldier before he snapped and hurt him, leaning back in his chair while fiddling with a pencil; his mind was deep in thought.

"Sir," Hawkeye spoke up, standing next to him the entire time. "Do we have any ideas on where this outlaw has been hiding?"

Roy sighed and glanced over to her, disgusted at the man called Fullmetal.

"No damn clue... I have a hunch that he's been camping out in an abandoned gas station to the south... But it doesn't matter, he won't get caught in his own home. If I'm to catch him - no, kill him... I'm going to have to be less predictable."

Riza nodded and observed her pissed-off superior, trying to think of different angles to aid in his endeavor.

"Sir, how about the boy?"

"What about him?"

"Well," Hawkeye began, "He took him for a reason, it might be his one weakness."

Mustang sat up and nodded, a slight grin gracing his lips. "You might have a point there. He can't be a shadow if he has a kid on his back."

Riza hid a smile, satisfied at her suggestion. She had great admiration for the man before her, and if she could help in any way then she would be glad to do so.

"Do you think he'll keep the guns?" she prompted.

"No," Roy replied. "He'll sell them. The only gun that bastard uses is that damned shotgun. And my hunch is that he's gonna sell them to the resistance fighters."

"Why them?" Hawkeye questioned.

"Why not? If he sells the guns to the resistance fighters it'll only keep us off his back. We can't chase him down if we're too busy fighting the rebels. "

Riza nodded, "Well then, what's our next move?"

The black haired superior grinned and stood up, grabbing his ignition gloves as the chair swiveling around as he exited the room. "It's all a game, lieutenant - nothing more than chess," he replied. "It's time to put the gloves back on and observe the board."

* * *

The bike came to a stop, the engine dying as its rider turned the key. Fullmetal had followed the old road until he reached a small town just outside of the Capitol. In fact, you could see the massive Capitol walls that were erected and made of impenetrable stone to keep people out. With a deep breath the blond outlaw stood up, adjusting the heavy bag that was slung over his shoulder. This was the meeting place - an alleyway, situated between two large buildings that were falling apart. What the decaying buildings used to be nobody knew, but both he and the resistance fighters used them as a meeting place.

"Ah, Fullmetal," a voice echoed between the narrow walls, a man appearing at the other end of the alley. "I'm glad you showed."

He wasn't quite as tall as Fullmetal, and not near as muscular. The buyer had a leather jacked, ripped jeans with worn-out sneakers, and his short, dark hair was messy and unkempt.

"You doubted I would?" the outlaw replied, walking down the alley with the bag of guns.

"Nah, never. You always come through for us."

The two came face to face as they eyed each other with anticipation.

"Is that all of them?" the buyer questioned.

The red-coated man dropped the bag, nodding as he stretched his sore shoulder. "Yup. Three AK-47's, two M4's, four 9mm's, and three .44's. 'Sall here."

The recipient smiled and knelt down, unzipping the bag.

"You got what I wanted?" Fullmetal demanded while the man searched the bag's contents.

"Yeah, its right over there," he pointed to a dumpster in the alley.

The outlaw walked on over, lifting the lid to reveal a small toolbox. He yanked it out and set it down, opening the lid to reveal a variety of tools that were hard to come by these days.

"Good. I'll be using these in my shop," Fullmetal muttered, closing the toolbox and walking back over to the buyer. "Anything else?"

The rebel chuckled and shook his head.

"This some kind of joke?"

The red-coated man furrowed his eyebrows, glancing from the buyer to the bag of guns. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" the rebel picked up a 9mm and waved it around. "There's only three of them. You trying to pull something here?"

Fullmetal's face went blank as he knelt down and sifted thought the bag. There _were_ only three.

"Listen, I don't know what happened to it, but it was in here when I left."

"You sure about that, _outlaw_?" the buyer hissed, clearly upset at the whole deal. "Because I don't like being screwed around with."

"Look, its only one gun. Let me just-,"

"No! Its not just one gun. If I let this slide, then every low-life piece of shit trying to sell us guns will think its okay to pull one over on us! And then do you know what we lose? Guns, money, and respect!"

The blonde ran his fingers though his hair, trying to think of an answer.

"So what are we going to do about it, outlaw?" the buyer asked.

Silence fell over the alley as tension built, both parties irritated.

"Look, I can get you another gun. I'm not screwing you over, I've been honest in every other deal. Let me make it up," Fullmetal said.

The rebel flashed a wicked grin, raising the 9mm to the outlaw's head.

"I have every two-bit worthless scumbag wanting to join this rebellion against the Capitol, and there are plenty of outlaws out there willing to do anything for a buck. But you? I can't let even a single asshole rip us off, or every bastard and his brother will think they can take advantage of us."

Fullmetal stared into the man's eyes, not flinching at the threatening gun.

"Just calm down, alright?" he attempted, trying to calm down the maniac that shoved a gun to his face. "Let's just talk it out."

"Talk?" the buyer sneered in a mocking tone. "Talking gets no one anywhere. It's _action_ and _fear_ that people respond to, that people _respect_. And you know better than anyone, Fullmetal, that reputation is the one thing that makes a man great in this hellhole."

The outlaw stared into the barrel of the gun, not a single drop of fear showing.

"And what about _your_ reputation?" Fullmetal jabbed. "Is it great? Or is it as pathetic as you?"

The rebel smirked and cocked his head, staring down the Fullmetal with a wicked grin as a single gunshot rang out, echoing throughout the alley.

* * *

 _And there you have it, chapter three! I hope you enjoyed it! I actually had, like, three different ideas for this chapter battling to be written. But, as you can tell, this one won XD_

 _I know it was kinda short, believe me, I had A LOT more written. But then a thought came to me... Why not end on a cliffhanger? So BAM! that's what I decided; sorry :)_

 _As always, thanks so much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. They really make me smile!_

 _Anyways, stay tuned for the next chapter! I best get to writing before my ideas feel neglected and decide to leave. You know, because they can do that._


	4. Chapter 4

_**~Chapter 4~**_

The gunshot echoed out, its sound dissipating as smoke arose from the barrel of the gun. The bullet had missed its mark, leaving the shooter with furrowed brows and a bit of a temperament.

"Dammit!" cried Alphonse, who was glaring daggers at the makeshift target he had concocted out of some duct tape. His aim wasn't quite what he thought it was.

"Stupid recoil...," the boy sighed and observed his "score". He had managed to empty the clip and the wall _around_ the target was now full of holes - all except one, that is, but that bullet resided on the outer most ring.

Al sighed again and put the gun down on the coffee table, unconcerned about the wall he had just shot up. He slowly walked over to the open garage door with his hands deep in the pockets of his red and worn hoodie. He couldn't help but stare at the large planet that always rested on the vibrant blue horizon, watching and trying to pick out the individual space debris that formed its ring. It was relaxing, he supposed, but his mind still wandered into future hopes and painful memories.

"I want a bike like that one day...," he finally concluded to himself after noticing the tire tacks still somewhat fresh on the asphalt, his ten-year-old mind jumping from topic to topic faster than heat stroke in a desert.

"But I would make a few changes, I think. Or... maybe not. I supposes it's cool as it is. But I would _definitely_ have a cooler hide out. Yeah... one with lasers and traps."

The boy chuckled to himself as he pictured the perfect "secret base" that would keep him safe from the bad guys. A place where he could hide from all the hurt and pain of this world. A place where he could choose who came into his life, people who wouldn't cause heartache. A safe house where he could try to forget the past and hope for the future. And maybe that same place... maybe he could one day call it home, too.

"One day," he whispered to himself as he stared longingly into the sky. "I'll be safe."

* * *

The rebel who was about to buy the guns had a petrified stare on his face, his hand slowly dropping the gun as thick, red blood pooled out of his mouth. To his utter surprise Fullmetal's auto mail fist had gone straight through his stomach and out his back. The outlaw had managed to barley avoid the close-ranged shot.

"D-damn you...," was the only thing he could mutter before death swiftly over took him, his body dropping to the ground as it slid off the metal arm.

Without a word the blond outlaw stared down at his dead enemy, flexing his metal digits to ensure that they still worked after blood and internals seeped into every mechanical nook and cranny. Despite escaping death yet _another_ time, he was far from getting out of there.

A pair of hands began to clap.

"Well, well...!" a voice echoed throughout the alley, using a taunting and sarcastic tone. However, Fullmetal wasn't surprised - he had anticipated hidden eyes on the whole deal since he'd arrived here.

"We didn't need him anyways, so thanks for doing the dirty work for me," the voice spoke again.

The red-cloaked outlaw calmly looked about him, trying to find the origin of the voice. It wasn't long before a lean and tall man walked into view. He had short, black, spiky hair and a sharp-toothed grin. He wore small, round sunglasses and a black vest with fur around the neck as well as black leather pants, but most of features were hidden in the darkness.

"So, who are you?" Fullmetal asked, the shadows still covering the mysterious man. Despite it being daytime, the position of the several moons cast a large shadow over the alleyway, allowing a person to hide from even the best of eyes.

"Me?" the stranger grinned while asking, fully stepping out of the shadows to reveal his entire self to the outlaw. "Well, now there's a question."

The man slowly walked towards the blonde, his sharp teeth still grinning wickedly.

"You see, no one knows my _real_ name... kind of like you, _Fullmetal_ ," he began. "But the one thing everyone knows about me is that I want this entire world! I want money, women, status, fame... I want this damned government gone so that _I_ can have it all! Some may say it's bad, some may say it's good. But the fact is, everyone wants something they don't have - and I want the finer things in life!"

The man paused and lowered his small round sunglasses to look Fullmetal in the eyes.

"They call me Greed, and I'm the leader of the Rebellion."

The red-coated blonde stared him down, clearly unamused by the entire show of theatrics.

"Greed? A little ambitious of you to claim that as your name, don't you think? _Everyone_ wants something they don't have, _especially_ in this world. So what makes you so special?"

Greed grinned again and shrugged, returning his glasses to his eyes.

"Because I actually get what I want."

"And _you're_ the one that's leading the Rebellion against the government?"

"That's right," the spikey-haired man replied.

"And what exactly is it that you want, Greed?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" the blonde repeated.

"Everything, including you."

Fullmetal gave a small laugh, "Sorry, but I'm taken."

"Ha-ha," Greed laughed humorlessly, passing Fullmetal as be began to walk over to the outlawish bike that sat at the end of the alley way. "You're quite the smart ass aren't you?"

The blonde watched while the rebellion leader walked by, approaching his motorcycle with ill intentions.

"You know, Fullmetal, you have quite a reputation among the Rebels here. They say you're the only one who's ever figured out how to cheat death out of his own game. So tell me: how _is_ it that you've lived as long as you have?"

The blond remained silent, watching as the spikey-haired man ran his index finger over the curves of the bike while he talked.

"Surely you have a secret? I mean, we all do. Right?" Greed asked.

Fullmetal grinned and shook his head, folding his arms over his chest.

"What are you getting at?" the outlaw demanded.

"What I'm trying to say is this:" Greed said, pulling out a knife that was hidden away in his belt and twirling it around. He then dug the blade into the metal of the motorcycle,

"I want you dead. I want to give death the thing he's been chasing after for so long; you," he finished, his blade leaving deep grooves in Fullmetal's ride.

"And how exactly does that benefit you?" the blond questioned. Greed chuckled,

"Because - if I can kill the legendary Fullmetal, then my place at the top of this world will be secure. I mean, who would deny the man who has killed the unkillable? Who slayed a legend!"

Fullmetal chuckled to himself. Whether it was out of humor or disbelief he couldn't tell, but somehow all this was amusing.

"You didn't want the guns, did you Greed?" he stated more than asked.

Another sharp toothed grin was flashed.

"No, I didn't. Your services were appreciated... but you've become a threat."

"And you're not here by accident," the red-coat stated.

"Exactly."

Greed suddenly threw the knife at the outlaw, its blade and handle spinning over one another in quick successions. Fullmetal whipped his metal hand up, deflecting the knife. Greed vaulted over the motorcycle and ran towards the blond, his fist successfully connecting to the outlaw's face. Fullmetal stammered backwards before catching himself, offering a blow of his own. Greed, however, nimbly dodged it and landed a blow to the outlaw's stomach.

 _"Damn, he's quick!"_ the outlaw thought, slightly caught off guard.

Greed pulled two more knives from his belt, quickly swinging them at his target. Fullmetal dodged and deflected them with his automail arm, slowly walking backwards towards his bike as he blocked deadly blows.

"What's wrong outlaw? Not fast enough?" the Rebel leader mocked, continuing to swing his blades at him.

The blond steadily kept up his defense, continuing to move backwards in the direction of his motorcycle.

"Well, you're clearly not fast enough," the outlaw shot back.

As he excepted, Greed grew a little hot headed and wavered in his technique, allowing Fullmetal to land a blow to his face. Before Greed could recover, the blond quickly disarmed him. Fullmetal grinned and ran towards the bike, vaulting over it as he pulled his shot gun from it's holster.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Greed shouted as he pulled another set of fighting knives from his belt, chucking them both at the outlaw with raging vigor.

"You can't hide behind that piece of shit!" he mocked again, grabbing yet another set of knives that were hidden on him.

Fullmetal's answer was a spray of shotgun shells that barley missed their target. He ducked behind the bike and quickly began to reload. Greed recovered and was about to make his way to the bike, but another shot came from the outlaw.

"Damn you!" Greed cried, narrowly dodging the last shot.

The blond reappeared, his gun resting on the seat as he fired another round. All Greed could do was dance and avoid the spray of shells. Fullmetal's head appeared once more, his gun ready to fire. But before he could, Greed threw his knives and grabbed two more from his belt.

"Shit!" Fullmetal ducked in time to keep his head. "How many knives does this bastard have?!"

Staying behind cover, the red-coated blond blind fired in the general direction of his enemy, unfortunately to no avail.

"Haha!" Greed cried as he ran towards the bike, jumping over it and landing in a squat as he came face to face with his target. There was no way he would give that damn outlaw a chance to reload again. His eyes, however, quickly widened when a shot gun barrel was shoved into his face.

"Don't, or I'll blow your head off asshole."

Greed flashed a grin and dropped his pair of fighting knives, standing up while raising his hands.

"You got me," he admitted, the grin still on his face.

The outlaw stood up and eyed the man before him. "Now give me one reason not to kill you," he demanded, pushing the double barreled gun closer to the man.

Greed chuckled, "Because, If you do you'll have to contend with _them_."

The Rebel leader motioned to the windows in each building, revealing several men on each side with guns pointed at the two of them.

"They have undying loyalty to me, and every mission is considered suicide."

"Fair enough," Fullmetal said. "But this isn't over."

"Ha, over? It's just getting started!" was the madman's reply.

"I'm taking the guns," the outlaw demanded suddenly.

"No, I think you'll be leaving them."

A warning shot rang out, the bullet piercing the ground right next to Fullmetal. Apparently the goons in the windows understood certain signals.

The outlaw cracked his neck and sat in the saddle of his bike, starting it up with his shot gun still aimed at Greed. He really wanted the guns - in fact, he almost needed them. And he hated to leave the tools behind, but there was no other way. His life was worth way more.

"You'll meet death one day, Fullmetal."

The blond grinned and stared into the round glasses.

"Maybe. But not today."

"Oh, but you will. And I'll personally introduce you."

Fullmetal shook his head and gazed to the windows. "Then why not have one of them kill me right here?"

Greed grinned. "Because, I want the satisfaction of doing it myself. After all, everyone wants something they don't have. Right?"

"Not everyone," the blond replied distantly.

The spikey-haired Rebel lowered his hands and spit as the outlaw took off, leaving tire tracks as he did a burnout and popped his signature wheelie. The smoke cleared, leaving Greed to a few coughs as he waved the gunmen away.

 _"That was too close,"_ Fullmetal thought to himself as he found his way back to the cracked asphalt road that would lead him home. A small grin graced itself on his lips as he opened the shot gun barrel, revealing an empty chamber. Thankfully, Greed had fallen for his bluff at the end. He had a gut feeling that wasn't the last he would see of Greed, but one thing was for sure - his reputation definitely proceeded him; and not for the better.

 _"Damn thing wasn't even loaded...,"_

He twisted the throttle and stuck the gun back in its holster as he gained speed, his mind wandering to Alphonse.

 _"I'm gonna wring that kid's neck when I get back."_

The outlaw frowned as he ran his fingers across the grooves that Greed had carved into the metal of his bike.

"Just another scar."

* * *

"What?" mumbled Al, rubbing his eyes as the loud engine woke him up. He had fallen asleep on the couch due to the lack of credible entertainment, but it didn't take long for realization to hit him.

"He's back."

The outlaw pulled into the garage and turned the engine off, remaining in the seat for a moment as he mulled things over.

"So, how'd it go?" the boy asked, getting up to walk over.

Fullmetal wasn't an idiot, and it didn't take long until his gaze met the missing gun.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?!" he scolded, getting up from the bike.

"I was just-," Alphonse fell silent, he knew _exactly_ what the outlaw meant. The boy sighed as he watched the man walk over and grab the gun from the coffee table.

"I was almost killed because of your ignorant stupidity."

Fullmetal looked around, noticing the duct tape target and the many bullet holes.

"Shit...," Al mumbled, bracing for what was about to happen.

"You stole my gun and then thought it was ok to shoot up my damn wall? What the hell is wrong with you, you little bastard?!"

I was just-," Al tried again, cut off by the angry outlaw.

"You just what? Thought it was okay to do this shit? Have you ever even used a gun?"

"Yeah, I told you-,"

"Really?" the blond interrupted again, "Because judging by your shitty marksmanship, I'd say you've never even seen one!"

"I have!" Al cried, causing the heated conversation to pause for a moment.

"Really?" Fullmetal pried, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"Yes, really!"

"Then why did you miss the entire target?"

"Because I was standing all the way at the other end of the garage!"

The outlaw shook his head and folded his arms over his chest, staring down the problematic child.

"Show me."

"Show you what?"

"Where the hell you were standing."

Alphonse flinched and dropped his shoulders, gazing at the ground while making his way to where he had fired the gun. To Fullmetal's surprise and Al's embarrassment, the boy was barley ten feet from the target.

"There?" Fullmetal asked.

"Yeah...," admitted Al reluctantly.

"You've never used a gun before, have you?"

"I told you, I have...,"

"Maybe, but even if you did you sure couldn't hit anything," Fullmetal teased.

The boy looked up and balled his fists. "I can! And I did!" he snapped, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "I killed him! I had to!" Alphonse choked up and roughly wiped his tears away, taking off and running out of the garage.

"Kid, wait!" Fullmetal yelled, watching as the boy disappeared out of sight. He stood there wondering what had just happened, wondering what Alphonse meant by that. The outlaw sighed and picked up the gun, turning it around and observing it. He knew that Alphonse was like anyone else living in this world, carrying around their fair share of secrets, but the boy was only ten years old and had already killed a man?

He really hated drama - that's _exactly_ why he rode solo. If you knew yourself, then there are no unwelcomed surprises.

"Dammit kid."

The blond set the gun down and walked outside, looking around for the upset boy. Maybe there was more to Al than he thought?

Running his fingers through his hair, Fullmetal mounted his bike and started the engine.

"He can't run; it's nothing but wasteland out there."

He grinned and shook his head. "Then again, he's probably smarter than I give him credit for."

* * *

Roy was hunched over a map, intensively studying it with his lieutenant at his side.

"Sir," Hawkeye spoke. "What _exactly_ is your plan?"

Mustang traced his finger along the map, grinning once he found his destination.

"Here. Right here is the abandoned gas station I believe him to be hiding out in. It's located right along the old highway, with wasteland on either side for miles."

"And you're sure he's there, sir?"

"I would bet my life on it. It has a garage, gas, tools, and everything that son of a bitch needs to survive. Along side of that, his most recent activity hasn't been outside a hundred miles of this place."

"Which means it must be where he's returning to?" Riza finished.

"Exactly."

"You said you weren't going to ambush him there?"

"I wasn't going to, you're right... but a thought just hit me. What do you think of when I say 'gas station?'"

Hawkeye thought for a moment before replying. "Gasoline, Sir."

"Precisely."

Mustang grinned and pulled his ignition gloves over his hands, flexing his digits for added effect. There was no longer a flame inside the man's eye - instead it was a raging fire. And if you looked close enough, you could see that fire burning behind his eye patch too.

* * *

 _After thinking, writing, editing, thinking, writing, and editing again... (Phew!) Chapter 4 is done! I was about to call it good when the first segment with Alphonse came to mind, so I added it in last second. Funny how things work!_

 _I want to give a shout out to everyone who has favorite, followed, and reviewed. I mean thanks guys, you're the best! XD And yes, I'll be doing a shout out every time because I really do appreciate everyone. It's like what Lan Fan said,_

 _"A king is no king without his people."_

 _likewise, A writer is no writer without his readers XD_

 _Drop a review to let me know what you think, or what you predict! Because I have so many ideas flooding my mind right now its not even funny. Well, I mean it would be if they could tell decent jokes... Wait, never mind. That's just the voices in my head, not my ideas. Hahaha!_


	5. Chapter 5

_**~Chapter 5~**_

The moons slowly continued their decent in the vibrant blue sky, growing closer to the horizon with every passing minute. The light that reflected off their surface began to dim as well, creating a rather unique nighttime.

"Sir," Riza spoke up, watching as Mustang's black orbs were fixed intently on the old and worn road. They had hopped in a car and took off from the Capitol, heading straight for the abandoned gas station Roy had mentioned earlier.

"What is it?" the eyepatched superior demanded, anger and determination laced in his voice.

"Well, I was wondering _why_ it is you're so set on catching the Fullmetal. There are plenty of other outlaws out there," Riza inquired gently.

Roy Mustang kept his grip on the wheel as the car bounced now and again from potholes and wear and tear on the beaten asphalt.

"Because, Lieutenant," he explained, "there is no other outlaw like the Fullmetal. He's a legend, and some say he's immortal. If I can kill the bastard, then there is no way I could be denied presidency of this entire country. There is a lot of talking going on back at the Capitol, and I know of a few higher-ups that are starting to sweat. With Fullmetal dead, They'd be begging me to take control."

"You don't actually believe he's immortal, do you?" asked Hawkeye.

Her black-haired superior smirked, "No, I don't - everyone is mortal whether they like it or not. But he's evaded death so many times that some are starting to question."

"And you?"

"I believe all it will take is a bullet to his skull. And then... then I'll be know as the man who killed a _legend_."

Riza nodded and shifted her gaze out the side window, watching as the blank wasteland seemingly stood still.

"You know that you're probably not the only one who wants to kill him for status," she stated.

Mustang nodded, glancing over to his subordinate.

"Yeah, but I'll be the one to actually pull it off."

"I hope you're right, Sir...," she whispered to herself.

* * *

The outlaw's bike rumbled throughout the wasteland as he casually rode down the old highway, looking around for Alphonse. He was getting fed up with this crap, and he hated babysitting the brat. It was so much simpler on his own. But for some reason, the boy evoked feelings inside of him - feelings that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was strange, but somehow Al brought about the compassion that was buried so deep inside himself. It brought out the sense of protection, the feeling of not willing to let anything happen to the boy. In a way, he was like a little brother to him.

"Hmph," Fullmetal grunted to himself while shaking his head. "I'll be damned if I start becoming soft."

The outlaw kept on riding, observing the dying moons as darkness slowly crept in. He had to find the boy, sooner rather than later.

Luckily it was sooner. On the side of the old beaten road sat a boy in a red hoodie, throwing rocks at some imaginary object. Al hadn't gotten far, but he was still quite a distance from the gas station - leaving the outlaw slightly amazed at the boy's speed.

The bike rolled to a stop, the engine dying.

"Hey kid."

Al remained silent.

"It's getting dark out. We need to head back," Fullmetal tried again.

Al sighed and avoided eye contact.

"Then go back, I don't really care," he muttered irritably.

The outlaw stared at the boy, watching as rocks were thrown at nothing. He should just leave the kid and get back. Al didn't determine what he did or didn't do - yet, he felt obligated to stay.

"Listen," he attempted to sound less... abrasive for once, getting off the motorcycle and walking over to the boy. "I-I'm sorry if I, you know... was _maybe_ a little rude back there. I didn't mean to upset you or anything."

Alphonse quit throwing rocks and grabbed his knees, pulling them up to his chest as he stared away from the outlaw and out at the horizon.

"I didn't know you had to shoot anyone, I mean-,"

"You don't know anything," Al sharply interrupted, his voice spewing anger.

Fullmetal fell silent as he sat next to the boy, watching as the wind ruffled his brownish-blonde hair. He wasn't good at this, he wasn't good with kids. He had been alone all his life, and alone he decided to stay - well, at least until Alphonse came into the picture that is. But what was he supposed to do? He was an outlaw that killed without mercy and did what he wanted, a man who lived by nobody's rules and was governed by nothing. And yet, amongst all that, this boy managed to pull him in.

"Edward...," he said quietly.

"What?" Al asked, confused at the random name.

"My name. You asked me what it was, remember?"

"So what?" Alphonse shot back.

"Well, its Edward - my name."

The boy couldn't help a small grin as he loosened his grip on his knees. "That's a cool name... I guess."

"Eh, I prefer Fullmetal. It's more...," the outlaw paused for a lack of better words.

"Badass?" Al offered.

"Yeah," Edward grinned. "Something like that."

"I thought you said you never told anyone your name?" the younger of the two asked, shifting his position slightly.

Fullmetal nodded and looked out at the dry desert. "You're right - I never have. Not until now."

Al looked over at the blond, observing his rough exterior and the scar on his right cheek. If someone were to see him coming at them, with the metal limbs and intimidating face and everything, they'd be sure to piss their pants. But on the inside, it seemed that there was more to him than meets the eye.

"Why?" Alphonse asked.

"Why what?"

"Why did you tell me your name?"

Edward shrugged casually. "I guess because you told me a little about your past, I felt like I should tell you something about me - you know, equivalent exchange."

"Yeah," Al agreed. "By the way, how come you don't use your alchemy more often? Like when you raised that earth wall back when you found me - it's so cool."

Fullmetal sighed and flexed his metal digits, gazing at them with painful memories swimming in his mind.

"It's a long story, kid."

"Short version?" Al offered hopefully.

Edward grinned at the boy's persistence; that's one habit that will die hard, he was certain.

"Well, when I was a kid... about your age I guess...," Fullmetal paused and took a deep breath. How was he supposed to sum things up without giving his life's story?

"I never had parents," the outlaw began again. "So I had to learn everything the hard way - and on my own. Well...one day... some shit went down and I lost my arm and leg."

"Shit went down? That's all I get?" Al teased.

Edward chuckled softly, "Yep, that's all you get. _Maybe_ I'll tell you one day."

"Fine." Al pouted.

"Anyways, I was about your age when it happened. So, a friend of mine who happened to be a mechanic designed this metal arm and leg for me. She was pretty much a genius."

"I bet," Al agreed. "I mean, I've never seen anything like it. You have to be the only person in the world who has a metal arm and leg."

Edward gave a faint smile. "Yeah, it's a one of a kind."

"I want to meet her one day," Al concluded, imagining how cool she must be.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you kid, but she's gone."

"Oh, like she left? Or-,"

"No, she died a long time ago...," Fullmetal cut in, staring wistfully into his metal arm as if to see her again.

"Oh... I'm sorry...," said Al quietly.

"Nah, it's okay. Anyways, do you know how alchemy works?" Fullmetal quizzed the boy, quickly setting aside the painful memory.

Alphonse nodded, a smile gracing his lips. "Yeah, I know how it works. Pretty good at it too."

"You can perform alchemy?" asked Edward in surprise. Al smiled proudly,

"Yup!"

"Well, then this will make more sense than I hoped. You see, when you draw the circle of a transmutation circle it directs the flow of energy. That circle is only activated when two points of energy comes in contact with it."

"Your hands?" Al guessed.

"Yes," Fullmetal confirmed. "And what makes them energy points is the heat and energy of your living body and blood. But, as you can tell, I only have one flesh arm left. Therefore I can't use traditional alchemy anymore."

"Can't you use you're feet?" Alphonse wondered, his interest piqued.

"No, and here's why," Edward said as he pointed to the ring finger on his left hand. "The vein right here runs straight to your heart. There is something special about your hands, something that can activate the energy within the circle and within the Earth. Your feet aren't the same, I've tried."

"Oh," Al sighed.

"So, in order to use alchemy, I have to use less traditional methods. I learned it a long time ago, but the short version is that I use the life within me to perform alchemy instead of the energy inside the Earth. So every time I do alchemy, it takes away a part of my life. I'm not quite sure how much though - could be moments, days, weeks, years even. I'm not really sure."

"Why would you use it then?" questioned Alphonse.

"Because," Fullmetal began. "It comes in handy when I _have_ to use it. I try not to though."

The two fell silent for a while as the darkness fully set in, stars scattered all over the night sky. They continued to stare into the dark wasteland, unconcerned about anything or anyone. It was as if the entire world disappeared, leaving the two of them on the side of the road.

"I bet you want to know my story," Al guessed.

"You don't have to," Ed countered.

"Nah, its cool. Equivalent exchange, right? You told me your story, now I tell you mine."

"Yeah, something like that," the outlaw agreed.

Alphonse brought his knees back to his chest, resting his head on them. Fullmetal remained silent, waiting for the boy to speak in his own time.

"It was two years ago, when I was eight. My parents and I were living in the slums, trying to do all we could to survive. Well, one night...," Alphonse choked up for a moment, fighting the coming tears. He wasn't as composed as Edward, and it was still fresh in his mind.

"One night...,"

* * *

 ** _(Two Years Ago)_**

 _"Alphonse!" a voice whispered frantically, waking the small boy up._

 _"Wh-what?" Al asked, rubbing his eyes as he awoke. He sat up and yawned - it was still the dead of night._

 _"Listen son, listen to me," the man put a revolver in the boy's hand, looking him in the eyes. "I need you to hide in the closet, okay?"_

 _"D-dad?" Al asked, looking down at the gun, then back to his father, eyes wide. "What-what's wrong?"_

 _"It's okay Al. Someone's in the house - I'm just gonna scare them off. They're probably just looking for some food."_

 _"Dad-,"_

 _"No, I need you to hide. Everything's going to be okay, I promise. The gun is just for safety, alright?"_

 _Alphonse nodded as his father quickly guided him to the closet, closing the door and leaving the boy in the dark. It all happened so fast - and on top of that he was still waking up._

 _"Dad...," Al whispered as he gripped the gun, tears now beginning to stream down his cheeks. Was this really happening?_

 _Silence. Silence was all he could hear - or rather, not hear. No noise, no nothing. Every second felt like an hour, and every minute felt like an eternity. He hoped and prayed his parents were okay, that his dad would protect him and his mother. But he couldn't hear anything, so was that good? Or bad? It wasn't unheard of to have break-ins within the slum's community. Everyone wanted something, whether it was food or possessions. And they were willing to do anything to get it._

* * *

Al paused as he buried his head between his knees, letting out muffled sobs.

"Listen, you don't have to continue." Edward reassured, imagining the helplessness Al must have been feeling.

Alphonse looked up with red eyes, wiping away the tears while slowly shaking his head.

"N-nah. I'm all good." he finally responded. "I'm okay..."

Fullmetal softly nodded, listening as the boy continued his story.

* * *

 _Thump! Thump!_

 _That was the first noise the boy was greeted with... a loud and repetitive thumping. As he listened he counted five of them, all distinctively hard - but after a brief pause, the strange and alarming noise began again. Alphonse tried to stay calm and remain in the closet, but it was easier said than done. Unable to bear the curiosity and anguish, he cracked the closet door and peered out._

 _The coast was clear._

 _With a deep breath Alphonse exited the closet and entered his room, proceeding to walk though the doorway. They lived in a small, run-down house, so there wasn't many places someone could hide._

 _Walking through the hallway with the gun in hand, Alphonse made his way into the small living room and was greeted with the horror of his life. On the cracked wooden floors lay his mom and dad, dead and bleeding. Over top one of them stood a man with a butcher's knife. He had already cut the head and limbs off his father, piling them in the corner. The killer was now beginning to dice the torso._

 _All Alphonse could do was stand in complete shock, tears paving their way down his cheeks. The murderer was unaware of the traumatized boy, completely indulged in the chopping of human beings. Al stood and covered his mouth, watching as his father's torso was cut to pieces._

 _It was a sight straight out of hell._

 _The chopping, however, came to a stop as the killer noticed the boy's presence._

 _"Ah, another one!" the butcher cried in a creepily cheery voice, swiveling around to eye the young boy._

 _"It's my lucky day!" the killer grinned while raising the butcher knife, "I get to chop a kid!"_

 _Alphonse let out a loud squeal as the man ran towards him, the butcher knife flailing with excitement. Before he could reach Al, however, a loud bang was sent off; causing the killer to stop in his tracks._

 _The boy stood with tear filled eyes as smoke rose from the barrel of the gun that trembled in his hands._

 _"D-damn you kid...," the man cursed, gripping his bleeding stomach as he collapse to the floor._

 _"M-mom... D-dad...," Al stuttered, his_ _gaze shifting to the butcher knife on the floor._

* * *

"And on the butcher's knife was the inscription: " _Barry The Chopper,"_ finished Alphonse, his head now buried between his knees. All the boy could do was cry and sob, leaving Fullmetal to watch with a feeling emptiness.

The two sat there, time seemingly frozen as silence settled in. What could he do? What could Al do? They were nothing but two people surviving the cruel conditions of living in this world. It's as if pain became a part of life, a part of who you are and who you become.

Pain defines you, it makes you who you are. It either hardens your heart or softens it. There is no such thing as living, just surviving. Hurt becomes a part of you and softer emotions get buried deep inside to protect from future cruelties.

Fullmetal couldn't help feeling sorry for the boy, wanting to help him somehow. But before Edward could say anything, however, a large explosion rang out in the distance - and it wasn't hard at all to see fire and smoke billowing into the sky.

* * *

 _And there you have it! Backstory!_

 _Okay, so I just wanted to mention real fast that I do know how alchemy works in the canonical FMA universe. HOWEVER! I took it and made slight changes, taking the theory and application and tweaking it to fit this specific AU and character cast. So yeah, I didn't get the whole concept wrong, just changed it a bit XD_

 _Also, since this is a major backstory chapter, I figured I'd share how this AU even came to me. So I hope you don't mind, kinda a backstory on the story. Haha :)_

 _I was in the car, and one of my favorite songs came on the radio: "Wanted Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi. As I was listening to the lyrics "On a steel horse I ride." and the entire theme of the song, I thought to myself:_

 _"Hey! Wouldn't it be cool to make a complete steampunk story where a guy LITERALLY rides on a steel mechanical horse instead of a motorcycle, running from the law and what not."_

 _Well, from there I applied the idea to FMA and tweaked it to where it was Edward on a motorcycle (instead of a steampunk steed) in a wasteland like in the "Mad Max" movies or the video game "RAGE"_

 _Then, as I was writing the very first draft, I thought to myself:_ _"Hey! Edward is turning out to be similar to Daryl from "The Walking Dead."_ _And at that moment I remembered Daryl's angel wing jacket._

 _From there I decided to etch the wings on Ed's motorcycle and make the saying: "On wings of steel I ride." Mixing "On a steel horse I ride" and angel wings._

 _So yeah, there you have it. The backstory of my story XD_

 _I want to thank everyone who has favorited, followed, and or reviewed. It truly makes me so happy to hear feedback, compliments, and constructive criticism. You guys are the best!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**~Chapter 6~**_

A bright and massive body of flames were clearly visible in the distance, its orange and yellow hues complimented by the night sky. The explosion was loud, leaving the duo with a chill in their bones.

"Th-that was...," Al stammered in shock.

"Dammit...," Edward cursed, his eyes fixed upon the ruins of what he knew was now the remains of his old hideout.

"We need to go check it out!" cried Alphonse suddenly, quickly getting up and running over to the motorcycle. "We need to see what happened!"

"No, kid."

"But...,"

Al's words fell short. There was nothing to say - what could he say?

"They must have put two and two together...," Edward mumbled to himself, folding his arms. Alphonse glanced over at him, curious,

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that I stayed there too long. I usually change hideouts every so often - you know, to keep them guessing. I should have left sooner."

"So they found you?" Al wondered.

"Yeah, they must have pinpointed where I would most likely return to. I bet he's been tracking my movements this whole time."

"Who's _he_?"

At this Edward snorted in disgust, "That bastard Mustang," he answered.

Al thought for a moment before a light bulb lit up in his mind and he exclaimed, "Oh, the guy who can control the fires of hell?"

"Yeah, him."

A silence hung in the air for a while as the duo stared out into the flame, watching it flicker in the starlight.

"You don't seem upset," noted Alphonse quietly, unsure at the outlaw's strange calmness. Fullmetal smirked,

"Upset, no. Pissed? Yeah."

"Is there a difference?" the boy asked innocently.

With a small chuckle Edward looked down at his follower. "I guess not. I'm just used to it, I guess. In this life, you can never expect anything to last for long."

Al slowly nodded and understood. He was no stranger to that summary - take his parents, for example. He expected them to be around forever - like any naïve child would - instead of meeting the gruesome end they did. And with the way that Edward lived, along with the few things he'd managed to see so far... it made sense.

"I'm still here," Al softly spoke, looking up at the outlaw.

"Yeah, you are," Fullmetal agreed, "Although I never expected to have to babysit a kid."

Alphonse playfully slugged Edward's arm, letting out a yelp as he realized it was the arm made of metal and waved in the air as if it would stop the stinging.

"Damn that hurts!" he exclaimed.

Fullmetal laughed to himself, shaking his head in amusement.

"I told you it came in handy."

"Yeah, no kidding."

The two shared a small laugh despite the destruction of the gas station, neither of them really caring where they would go next. They were two people who didn't really have a home, just an open road in front of them... and maybe, just maybe, that was the way they wanted it to be.

"Why did you want to come with me so badly?" Ed wondered suddenly, looking to the red-hoodied boy.

"Because you're badass," Al replied with a grin.

"I'm serious," said Fullmetal, frowning slightly.

Alphonse's grin faded and he took a deep breath, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his worn-out jacket. He didn't really know how to describe it.

"I guess...," he tried, "I guess it's because I didn't see you as an outlaw, or a bad guy, or anything bad, really. I just, I don't know...,"

"What do you see me as, then?" Ed questioned, curious on how this ten year old ended up next to him. Their first meeting, after all, was when he put his shotgun to the boy's head. What was there to see in that other than bad qualities?

Al looked up at him with a soft smile.

"A big brother."

* * *

"Something's wrong," Mustang finally grunted after staring into the flames for quite some time.

"What is, Sir?" Hawkeye asked.

"They weren't in there. _He_ wasn't in there."

"Are you sure?"

Roy sighed heavily in frustration and looked around. The Fullmetal had no idea they were coming, and he had blown the gas station up as soon as he had gotten there. That meant he must have been out when they arrived.

"Yeah, I'm sure," the rugged soldier replied. "But this was _definitely_ where he was hiding out; look at the tire marks coming from the garage."

Riza looked and, sure enough, on the asphalt that lead into the garage were tire marks from a motorcycle. Despite the outlaw trying to stay under radar, it was apparent that some things never changed.

"Seems careless to me," the Lieutenant stated after observing the evidence.

"Yeah, but this is the Fullmetal. There is only a handful of people who have the balls to track him down. Guess he thinks he has the breathing room - or, he doesn't really give a shit," Roy guessed.

"So, you're _sure_ he wasn't in there?"

Mustang nodded and walked closer to the burning building. "Yeah, take a look," he said, pointing into the burning garage. Despite being engulfed in flames, you could see each individual object within it.

"No bike."

"You're right," Hawkeye agreed.

"And come to think of it, why did he leave the door open?" the eye-patched man questioned after walking around and actually _looking_ at the garage - something he probably should have done _before_ just blowing the place sky high.

Mustang thought it over and sighed, grunting as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Dammit!" he cursed. "I should have slowed down for a second! We could have set up an ambush instead of letting that asshole know we're here!"

A small and subtle grin graced Hawkeye's lips. She had noticed right away that the garage door had been open and the bike was absent, but she felt she would have been out of place to oppose her superior's plan. Instead, she decided to let him carry out his intentions despite them being clouded by bloodlust and determination. It was, after all, the only way he'd ever learn.

"Should we come back and look at what remains in the morning, Sir?"

Roy tugged on his bangs and nodded. "Yeah... yeah, that sounds like a good idea. He's probably long gone by now."

Riza smiled and escorted her superior back to the car, watching as he kept mentally beating himself up.

"You know Sir, it would help if you slowed down from time to time," she advised.

Roy grinned in return and glanced over to his subordinate. "You're probably right, Lieutenant."

There was a minute of silence before Hawkeye inquired curiously,

"Are you okay? You seem pretty calm given the situation."

Mustang climbed into the driver's seat of the and chuckled.

"That's because I just realized that If I'm gonna kill him, I don't want his body burnt beyond recognition. I want him identifiable so that no doubt can shroud my victory."

Riza nodded, her heart calmer now that he had come to a more solid conclusion on what he desired. Besides, she had thought that very thing from the beginning.

"It was a valiant attempt anyways, Sir."

Mustang started the car and put it in gear.

"Lets be honest, I just avoided a big ass bullet."

"Agreed, Sir," Hawkeye replied with a small smile.

* * *

The night reined during its natural course, stars flickering and littering the black and purple sky with beauty. The vast wasteland had cooled down to chilling temperatures, leaving anyone outside seeking warmth. With the gas station gone, the Fullmetal decided that there was only one place they could grab supplies from - a place that would be safe for now. With the decision made, the duo jumped on Fullmetal's motorcycle and began their journey into the chilling night.

The outlaw, however, was completely unprepared for the obstacle that would present itself at dawn.

"Why are we doing this again?" complained Alphonse as he continued pushing, his little legs tired from the last several hours of labor.

"I'm not leaving it behind," was the sharp and irritated reply.

Alphonse heaved a heavy sigh and continued pushing on the right side of the motorcycle's handle bar, Edward on the opposite side.

"We can always come back for it," the boy offered hopefully.

"No."

They fell silent for a bit while slowly pushing the useless bike, leaving them to wish that they had even just a single gallon of gas. Between Greed wanting to kill him, Mustang blowing up his base, and the lack of necessary supplies... it was just their luck that something like _this_ would happen.

"We're not far," Edward reassured, pausing and wiping the sweat off his forehead. Morning had already broke and they had been laboring since the sunrise. A small break was definitely in order.

"That's what you said hours ago...!" Al reminded as he collapsed onto the hard ground, his legs throbbing. "I wish we had some water...,"

"We'll get some when we get there," the outlaw said, sitting down on the seat of his bike.

"But I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die, kid."

Alphonse fell flat on his back with his arms and legs sprawled out, leaving his tongue to hang for added affect.

"Yeah, I can already feel my soul leaving my body."

Edward chuckled and watch the dramatic theatrics with slight amusement.

"It was nice knowing you."

Al frowned and sat up, "That's it? That's all you'd say if I actually died?"

"Well, you're not going to die are you?"

"I mean theoretically."

"Theory is a pile of shit in this world, remember that," Ed informed with folded arms.

"But If I _was_ to die, what would you say?"

The outlaw thought for a moment and scratched his chin.

"Well, I would have shot you sooner if I'd known you would die _this_ soon."

Al frowned and picked up a nearby rock, playfully throwing it at the man. "That's not funny!" he cried.

Fullmetal deflected the projectile with a grin, feeling a sense of accomplishment after getting the boy riled up.

"You asked!" he chuckled back.

"Still, that's cold hearted," Al pouted, folding his arms in protest. He sighed,

"Why don't you want to just leave the bike? We can come back for it or you can just get a new one."

"Because it's the one thing that hasn't left, or been destroyed, or been taken, or lost. It's like... a talisman of good luck, or something," Ed answered.

"Well I think its good luck has finally gone to shit...," Al grunted, obviously referencing the lack of gas.

The red-coated outlaw suppressed a laugh and gripped the handle bars tighter as memories came flooding back to him. This bike had gotten him out of serious trouble - and to be honest, it was probably his key to surviving all this time. His secret to cheating death.

"I'm gonna make sure I don't get attached to something so big...," the boy concluded, glancing up at the elder.

Edward got off the bike and stretched, grabbing the left handle bar once more.

"We should keep moving."

Alphonse stood up and gripped his side of the motorcycle, taking a deep breath as they began to push. It wasn't all that heavy, but it was still a lot of work after endless hours and miles on end.

The moons continued their ascent into the vibrant blue sky as morning grew into afternoon. The large planet sat on the horizon as its ring slowly turned, leaving the duo with something to watch and occupy their minds while they trudged along through the desert for several more tiring hours. The diner wasn't much further, had they been riding - but at this pace? It was still gonna be a while.

"So, why does that Mustang guy want to get you so bad?" Al questioned.

Ed took a moment to ponder before responding. When he did, it was with a careless tone.

"Because I do what I need to survive, and if that means screwing over the damned military than so be it. He obviously doesn't like that I've gotten away with it for so long."

"So he wants to kill you?"

Ed shrugged, "Yeah, pretty much."

"So why-," Al started, his curious mind thinking faster than he could get answers. But something caught his attention, something big enough to suppress the question.

"What?" Fullmetal pried, turning around and looking in the direction Alphonse was staring. His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.

"Oh _shit_...,"

They hadn't noticed it, but behind them was a gigantic dust storm rolling in, and it was closing in - _fast_. Neither of them could see the bright blue sky _or_ the large moons; everything behind them was engulfed in a brown and thick dust.

"What do we do?" asked Al nervously, clearly shaken up at the upcoming storm.

The outlaw thought for a moment as he stared into the brown. From the looks of it they were shit out of luck.

"We can't outrun it... so...,"

Edward grabbed the bike and turned it to where its side was facing the oncoming storm. This way, they would at least have _some_ shelter from the driving winds.

"At least we'll have some sort of protection...," mumbled Fullmetal as he watched the dust storm close in on them.

"That's not a whole lot...," Alphonse doubted as he observed the storm.

"Its better than nothing."

"Yeah. If it works... then I take back what I said about its good luck being gone."

The wind began to pick up and blow harder as the massive dust cluster closed in on the duo. The two decided to get behind the motorcycle in attempt to block some of the harsh wind. It wouldn't be long now.

"Stay down," Ed directed, covering his face with his tattered cloak.

Al nodded and did the same, bracing for the impact. If there was one thing about the wastelands, it was that these dust storms will roll in without warning and hit you like a truck. They were full of danger and void of mercy.

The wind began blowing hard as the storm hit, engulfing the two of them. They stayed crouched behind the bike, relieved that it was, surprisingly, helping in some capacity.

"Just stay down!" Ed called out, his voice drowned out by the vigorous wind.

It felt like a bunch of sandpaper was being scraped against their skin and their lungs began to fill with dirt, giving them coughing fits. It shouldn't be long before it passed and they could continue on their way - but nothing was ever that simple.

Fullmetal froze, his eyes widening despite the harsh winds. His heart collapsed and fell through to his stomach, causing him to lose his breath. He wasn't afraid of anything - not death or pain or hurt or guns or bullets or torture. But this? Anyone would be insane _not_ to fear what was coming.

Engines. The sound of engines. They were _Storm Riders_ \- people who lived by no morals whatsoever. They had no conscience and no heart, doing the most vile things a human being could take part in as they used the dust storms to hunt their victims. They were way worse than any outlaw.

The engine roars grew closer and closer until the vehicles came into view. There were two make shift cars that looked like they were put together from scrap metal and spare parts, each one being covered in spikes, bones, and skulls of their victims. Along with the two vehicles was a single semi truck, its grill adorned with spikes and bones as well. The large truck was pulling a flatbed trailer.

"Shit!" Edward cursed as he frantically reached for the shot gun. But it was too late. One of the cars managed to hook a tow cable to his bike so that it could be pulled onto the trailer. The horrific cars kept circling around him and Alphonse, the wicked laughs even louder than the rushing wind. And then the outlaw got one terrifying thought.

 _"Al...,"_

"Alphonse!" cried Fullmetal, desperately looking around for the boy. He couldn't let them take him. He couldn't those monsters do what they wanted with him. He knew what the boy would become, what they would make him into. Those sick bastards could never keep their pants on, and they always enjoyed giving people a slow death. The kid was only ten years old!

"Edward!" came a shriek from the wind, causing the outlaw to freeze and try to pinpoint the location.

"Al!" he cried back, looking around helplessly. But to his despair, the engine noises began to distance as the cars and truck made off with both his bike and Alphonse.

"No! Dammit no!" the outlaw cried as the dust cleared just enough for him to tell which direction they were going. They struck quick and fast, obviously too good at what they do.

With shaky hands, the Fullmetal took off in a sprint to follow the trail of dust that the convoy left behind. He was going to get Al back. He had to.

* * *

"Sir!" addressed a man as he knelt down on one knee.

"What is it?" demanded a voice.

"Reports have come in that the gas station we tracked the Fullmetal back to was blown up!"

"What?!"

"We don't know how or why, Sir! We await your command."

The figure huffed and stood up from his chair, eyeing the man through sunglasses that shone in the light.

"Send a team to investigate and see why the hell that bastard blew up his own hideout," he ordered.

"Yes Sir! Mr. Greed Sir!" the man announced, getting up and leaving in a hurry.

"What game are you playing, Fullmetal?" Greed wondered aloud. He flashed his sharp-toothed grin in response, chuckling.

"Whatever it is... you can't win. You can't cheat death forever."

* * *

 _Hello my friends! I present to you Chapter six! I know it was a later update than usual, life got busy and hectic and It took me a bit to write and edit all this. In times like these, I'm really happy to have my wonderful sister helping me to beta and adjust all this, she's amazing XD_

 _If you want to check out any of her works, her pen name is AiroctivElnyn and she's an amazing writer! Not just cause she's my sister :)_

 _I had, like, MAJOR writers block on this chapter, so a dust storm here in Arizona ended up saving my butt instead of giving me Valley Fever, hahaha! So I hope you all enjoyed it._

 _As always and forever, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has favorited, followed, and or reviewed. I love you guys from the bottom of my heart and herby send you a giant hug! XD_

 _Whelp! Time to see if I can manage to pull Alphonse out of this mess I created! See you guys in the next chapter!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**~Chapter 7~**_

Dark.

It was all dark.

All he could remember was dust... lots and lots of dust. And wind. He remembered the wind and the laughter - not happy, innocent laughter, but wicked, grotesque laughter.

And now it was dark.

It was all dark.

Alphonse could tell he was in one of the frightening vehicles that showed up. He knew because of the up and down motion caused by the uneven desert ground and the sound of the obnoxious engine. Being kidnapped frightened him already, but being _blindfolded_ for the ride made it even more agonizing. He had no way of knowing where they would take him, or if Edward was following. He felt alone and trapped, surrounded by wicked chuckles and demonic fantasies.

"Look at him! We got a young 'un!" cried a raspy, masculine voice from within the vehicle, hysterical and laced with insanity.

"I know! I know!" agreed a different voice, full of the same disgusting hysteria. "He's all ours!"

"What are we going to do with him?" questioned a third man, leaving Alphonse to wonder how just how many people were in this death trap of a car.

"I want him! I can't wait anymore!" the first voice rang out. Al could just imagine the weirdo licking his lips. "I _have_ to have him!"

Alphonse curled into a tight ball and buried his head, trying to convince himself that this wasn't really happening, that it was all some sort of sick dream. He wanted it all to go away. He wanted to see Edward again.

"Can't you wait you sleazy pervert?!" one of the men cried.

"No! I can't, I just can't!" the other creep exclaimed, noisily fiddling with what Alphonse thought was a belt. He had pure insanity glistening in his eyes and lust pounding through his veins... but Al couldn't see that, and maybe it was for the better.

"Stop it!" the third man ordered, audibly slapping the insane one over the back of the head. "Get ahold of yourself!"

"But-,"

"But nothing! He's not just yours you asshole, he's _all_ of ours! Besides, _I_ was the one who spotted him so I get my turn first! It's been too long since I've heard the agonizing screams of torture."

"Fine... but I get him afterwards," the hysterical one pouted.

"And I get him after that!" the third voice sang, too much joy encompassing that statement. "I want to be the one to kill him! To watch him die! You guys get to torture and bang him, so I get to kill him!"

The other two heaved a heavy sigh, reluctantly agreeing to the terms. It seemed like their plan was all sorted out.

"What about the others?"

"What about them?"

"Well, we captured this kid, but the others in the car next to us managed to catch another kid along the way. What do you think they're gonna do to her?"

"Don't know, and I sure as hell don't give a rat's ass. All I care about is getting back and having my fun."

The three men laughed and laughed together, increasing their speed to shorten the anticipation. All poor Alphonse could do was stay balled up as his blindfold dampened with frightened tears.

* * *

"Sh-shit," Fullmetal gasped, slowing down to a stop. He had been running for miles and miles, trying not to lose the trail of the Storm Riders. It was faint, but he could still make out the tire tracks in the dirt. If the outlaw was lucky, and no more dust storms rolled in, he could follow those bastards all the way. All the way to Alphonse.

"I'm c-coming k-kid," Ed heaved again while trying to catch his fleeting breath. It definitely was one long ass run.

"Th-they cant be _much_ further...,"

The outlaw kept his gaze upon the horizon, trying to calculate where they might be going.

 _"What the hell is in that direction? Where would they be going?"_

His hip port was beyond sore - but not as sore as his other leg, leaving him to wonder if two auto mail legs would have made this easier. Eh, maybe. But it didn't matter - he could care less about himself. Right now he was worried shitless about what they could do to Al, what they _would_ do to him. It was fantasies straight out of hell, and he didn't want the poor boy to even know they existed, let alone be forced to _take part_ in them. He had to keep going, he had to keep chasing after them.

With a humorless chuckle Edward began running again. Not at a full forced sprint, but a faster paced jog to maintain his stamina.

"Who would have thought...," the outlaw smirked to himself. "...that _I_ would be chasing after a damn kid like this?"

In the middle of a vast wasteland there was a red-coated outlaw who was worn and beaten down by life and its circumstances, given the name Fullmetal to bear. But amongst all of it, under the vibrant blue sky, he ran. He ran not for himself, but for someone he cared about...

Something he hadn't done in a very, very long time.

* * *

"Anything?" Mustang cried out, sifting thought the burnt debris of the destroyed gas station. There had to be _some_ kind of positive outcome to his rushed mistake.

"Nothing over here!" Riza called out in response, lifting burnt unknowns off of other burnt and unidentifiable objects. Everything was black and singed to a crisp.

"Dammit!" the raven-locked man shouted, instinctively kicking the crumbling debris. How did this help anything? It seemed like such a good idea back at The Capitol, but now they were left searching this mess for hours on end.

Mustang sighed and made his way over to Hawkeye, who was having no luck as well. The two of them stood side by side with their hands propped on the hips of their blue uniforms, studying the rubble and looking for any sort of clue.

"I don't see a single thing," Roy stated in defeat. "It seems pointless to me."

Riza took a moment to reply, continuing to study her surroundings. "It does seem to lack any yield," she said slowly, "However... I don't think it was completely pointless."

"How so?" Roy asked in confusion. The whole ordeal seemed like a massive failure to him.

"Well, Sir, the Fullmetal didn't know we were coming. Therefore he must not have had any intentions on leaving the old highway. With that said, he obviously didn't come our way or we would have seem him-,"

"Meaning he must have gone in that direction," Mustang finished, pointing eastward down the old asphalt road. "Makes sense to me."

"That is, however, only speculation," the Lieutenant said.

"Well then it's damn fine guesswork. What exactly is in that direction anyway?"

Hawkeye squinted her eyes as if to see all the way past the horizon. "If I remember the maps correctly, I believe there is an old diner in that direction called 'North of Nowhere'. I can't guarantee, however, that he's still there, or if he moved after hearing the explosion," the lieutenant explained. Roy smiled at her,

"It doesn't matter - that's where we'll head anyways. Good work."

Riza smiled back at her eye-patched superior, glad to help in any sort of way. Her accomplishment, however, was quickly snuffed out as they were both greeted unexpectedly.

"Sup!" a voice rang out, causing the two soldiers to pivot on their heels. They were met with a very familiar person smirking at them from behind their sunglasses. "Nice day today, eh?"

"G-greed?!" Roy cried out in shock.

Greed flashed a wicked grin and made his way through the burnt rubble, his hands placed deep in his pockets. "That's the name, don't go wearing it out!" the criminal exclaimed. Then he tilted his head, "Find anything good, _Mustang?_ "

The soldier addressed huffed and spit on the ground, clearly disgusted at the man before him. "Nope. Not that I'd share it with you."

"Ouch! That pulled on the ol' heart strings Roy-boy!" Greed mocked. "Still as harsh as ever!"

The spikey-haired rebel stood in front of the two soldiers, his small sunglasses drooping down his nose and his eyes glaring at them from above. "S'prised to see you two here."

"We could say the same. Why are _you_ here?" Roy shot back. Greed shrugged casually.

"I came after hearing that the Fullmetal blew up his own place. I just wasn't sure if it was true - seems crazy to me."

Mustang stared at Greed, slightly astonished. He was obviously unaware that _Roy_ was the one who blew the place sky high.

"Yes, it seems crazy to me too," the black-locked soldier agreed, a subtle grin forming on his lips. In the corner of his eye he could see Riza giving him a look.

"But... since Fullmetal isn't here, what makes you think I won't kill you where you stand?" Mustang threatened. "You are a rebel after all - and the leader of them, no less."

"Duh, Roy-boy! You need me, after all!" was the confident reply. It caused Roy to frown. Greed laughed, continuing on,

"Come on, you know how this works - when there's people I don't need anymore, I let you know. I send them on a so-called mission, and whabam! You kill 'em all! It works for both of us! I get my dirty work done and you get points as a commander. You still want the presidency, right?"

Mustang sighed and folded his arms. Greed was right, he did need him. Being president was everything, and if that meant obtaining it through... unorthodox methods... then so be it.

"Guess there really wasn't anything here to find after all, huh?" he asked, changing the subject.

Riza shook her head. "No, there is absolutely nothing here, as anything useful was either burnt or blown into oblivion. I'd say we're lucky to even identify the building."

Greed gave a whistle of amazement and turned over a singed wooden plank with his foot. "Pretty hard core. He could'a been a real great ally. Too bad though - he is on my shit list, after all."

" _Your_ shit list?" Roy mocked. "You don't have what it takes to even consider him a part of that."

"Yeah?" Greed challenged calmly.

"Hell yeah! He's _mine_ and mine alone, so don't think your going to just go about trying to kill him now. He's been mine since before you even met the bastard!"

"Mmm, obsession. That can ruin a man you know."

Mustang clenched his fists, fighting the desire to twitch his currently gloved fingers. One snap and he'd shut that bastard up - and he was going to do it, too, but a calm hand quickly grasped his.

"It's okay, sir," Hawkeye said quietly.

"Oh, got your girlfriend on guard, eh? Tough guy."

Roy gritted his teeth, becoming increasingly pissed at the mockeries thrown towards his pride.

"Chill out Roy, you're still so tight. Anyways, I have to get going. No sense in wasting my time here with you."

Greed smiled and walked away, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Roy and Riza watched as the man made it to the asphalt road and began walking.

"Y-you mean he didn't even take a car?" Roy mumbled.

Riza glanced over at her superior, trying not to show her surprise. "It seems so. That was quick, I have to admit."

"Oh! And Roy!" Greed called out from the distance. "Don't think you'll stop me from catching the Fullmetal! I'm gonna do it just to piss you off!"

"Why that-,"

"Sir, calm down. There is nothing you can do right now."

"I swear...," Roy grunted through clenched teeth. "When I have the Fullmetal's head, and I don't need that bastard Greed anymore, I'm gonna kill him."

The two soldiers stood in the pile of burnt rubble and watched as the leader of the rebellion walked away. The world really was a real bitch.

* * *

Being in the dark completely eliminated Al's vision, leaving him to rely on his other senses. Sound? He heard the engines and the squeaky suspension of the vehicles. And he heard when they finally arrived, the cars coming to a stop and the grotesque men taking him out of the vehicle. As far as smell goes, _everything_ stunk like shit. He guessed that the men haven't showered in at least a decade, and they probably never even wiped their asses. It was sickening.

They were rough, really rough, and they enjoyed it too. One of them grabbed Al by the wrist and led him into some sort of building, keeping him blindfolded until they reached their destination. Alphonse still couldn't tell where he was, but he had a feeling it was some sort of prison.

"And there we go!" one of the men spoke, tearing off Al's blindfold while simultaneously slamming a door. "You're gonna stay here for now."

The light hurt his eyes, but once they blurred back into vision Al was mortified by what he saw. In front of him were the three guys that captured him - each one pale, filthy, and bony. It actually reminded him of those stick figure little kids drew. They were garbed in nothing but a dirty loin cloth and some home made shoes. Each one had gaping holes in their earlobes - a signature, Al thought.

"When we gonna have our fun with him?" one of the pale freaks asked.

"We have to let the boss know 'bout our spoils before we can just do what we want. You know that dumbass."

One of the bony animals shoved his head between the bars, scaring Alphonse and causing him to nearly fall backwards. "You're gonna be mine kid! Just you wait!"

The other two glanced over to the boy and grinned, showing a lack of teeth. "Yeah, this one'll be fun."

The three of them chuckled and turned around, leaving Alphonse alone.

 _"E-even animals like them have leaders?"_ Al wondered, surprised at any kind of 'formality'. All he could do was wait and hope. Hope that Edward would show up and rescue him. In the meantime, he finally had a chance to check out his surroundings - with his vision this time. And, maybe he could find a way to escape.

His original suspicions were correct - Al was indeed in a jail cell. It was rather small, and the floor was made up of concrete with a stone slab in the corner that provided a lousy bed. In another corner was a pile of bones, some of the meat still hanging on. Upon closer inspection, Al was mortified to find that they were human. This whole place seemed like a living hell.

 _"Scratch that,"_ Al thought to himself. _"It doesn't seem like a living hell - it is_ _one."_

Time passed and nobody came, leaving Al to wonder what exactly had happened. Those freaks were all excited to carry out their fantasies, and now they just up and left? It didn't make sense. All there was to do was wait and wonder - he had checked the jail cell for any place of escape, and so far there was none. Curling up on the pathetic bed, Alphonse sat with his knees to his chest and clutching them with all his strength. Maybe, maybe if he could shrink enough... maybe they couldn't find him?

After a long while footsteps were heard coming down the hallway. Al huddled into the corner and watched as a man approached the cell door. He wasn't one of the men that captured him, but he was equally as creepy.

"Here," the pale and bony man grunted, roughly setting a plate down inside of the cell. "One of our other prisoners ended up dying, so we can't let him go to waste."

On the plate was an arm and a leg, a _human_ arm and leg, just sitting there as if it was some sort of normal meal. It took everything Al had not to puke right then and there.

"Eh, you'll want it when your hungry enough kid," the freak said matter-of-factly. He appeared to be a little less insane than the others.

Alphonse remained quiet and didn't move and inch, watching as the guy walked away... and left him alone with the human limbs. All he could think of was pushing deeper and deeper into the solid corner, desperately wanting to avoid any contact with the so-called meal. But no matter how far he _wanted_ to be away, they remained right there. The worst part, though, was the smell - the smell of cold flesh and blood. It quickly began to reek inside of the cramped cell.

Outside the cage that Al was in, the moons in the sky began to dim, leading the outside world into nighttime. The poor boy curled up on the stone slab, staying inside his defensive ball and trying to ignore the grotesque smell. Tears stained his soft cheeks as his chest violently rose and dropped. He just couldn't stop crying and sobbing into his body. He couldn't help feeling alone and helpless, just like when his parents were killed. All he wanted was for Edward to come... but he knew that there was a good, a very good chance that he'll never find whatever and wherever this place is.

Soon, despite the hellish situation and the horrid smell, the boy's fatigue began to set in as he fell into a very light and unsettling sleep.

* * *

"Hey!" a male voice shouted out, instantly waking Al. "Bring 'er in here!"

Alphonse quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to remember where he was and almost throwing up once he remembered. Footsteps were stomping down the hallway, soon revealing an angry, pale man with a small girl.

"Think it's funny to try to escape? Damn bitch."

The man was dragging her along by her hair, ignoring the screams she was letting out. Al, however, buried his fingers in his ears. It wasn't long before they reached Al's cell, opening the door and throwing her inside and knocking the "meal" across the floor. He left without a word.

Alphonse couldn't help but stare. He was surprised that another person was thrown into the same cell as him, making him wonder how much room these people really have. The poor girl curled up and began crying hard, too upset to notice the smell and hellish décor.

"H-hello," Al attempted to make conversation, wondering if she was okay. He felt guilty for it, but the fact of having someone else in here made him feel a bit better. He watched the girl fore a couple more minutes - she didn't move.

Alphonse slowly got up and kicked the limbs away, softly sitting next to her. With a deep breath he placed a hand on her shoulder, causing the traumatized girl to flinch. Her face was buried into the ground.

"It's okay...," he soothed, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible. But it was hard when he wasn't even sure if he'd ever see the light of day again.

The girl sniffed and began to slow her breathing.

"I'm Alphonse, what's your name?"

It took a moment, but the girl slowly sat up and wiped away her tears. She was around Al's age, and she had soft brown hair that was braided between her shoulder blades. She had sapphire blue eyes, and a gentle look about her. After several more sniffles, the girl wiped her eyes once more and mustered a faint smile.

"M-my name is Nina...,"

* * *

 _And here is your special order of... Chapter Seven! Haha XD_

 _I have to admit, when the Storm Rider's came to me I wasn't completely sure where it would go. I mean, I had a general and basic idea of what I wanted to write, but now I think I've gotten Al into a much bigger mess than I anticipated, haha! And I was mean enough to drag Nina into it. Ah, oh well. I do it for my readers and for the sake of literature!_

 _I really want to thank everyone who has favorited, followed, and or reviewed. I was reading the reviews and it just made my heart glow. You guys are the best and all the positive feedback and kind words really mean the entire world to me. I honestly wasn't sure how well this concept and story would take off, but to see the support makes it even more alive for me. And I have to be honest, I'm having way too much fun writing this, hahaha XD_

 _~Have a very wonderful and super blessed day~_


	8. Chapter 8

_**~Chapter 8~**_

The steel cell door swung open as if to greet the poor girl to her grim "home". It had been like that for a while - the monsters would come in and grab Nina, disappearing with her down the hall as she screamed. Alphonse had no idea what was being done to her; the only information he was able to gather were the loud screams and visible bruises and cuts when she returned. For some reason, however, they never touched him.

"N-nina?" Al whispered one day after unburying his head.

The traumatized girl curled into a tight ball, sobbing and crying on the cold hard floor. The two of them had cried so much that it was a wonder that there were any tears left.

"Nina, are you okay?" Alphonse asked as softly and kindly as he could. He already knew the answer, but it was more a caring gesture than an actual question. But after some time passed he buried his head between his knees again, waiting for Nina to eventually reply.

He couldn't tell how many days it had been, or even if it had been weeks or months or years - time felt like it was slowly chipping away at his hope and spirit as if to break his very soul. He knew little about Nina and she knew little about him, for they both usually ended up sitting in silence most of the time waiting for something to happen.

"A-Alphonse...," Nina whispered in between sobs, slowly raising her head. "Do... do you have any family?"

The sandy-blond boy was caught off guard. He stared at her with wide eyes for a minute, before shaking his head.

"No."

Nina frowned and sat up, crossing her legs and drying her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her worn green shirt.

"You have to have some kind of family," she said. "Don't you have a Mom, or a Dad?"

Alphonse blankly stared at her before clenching his eyes shut to fight back the tears. "No, I don't have a Mom or Dad.*"

"Oh...," the little girl said sadly, her gaze shifting to the floor.

"But...," the boy reopened his golden hues and smiled. "I do have a friend, and he's gonna rescue us and kick the asses of every last creep here."

Nina mustered a weak smile and scooted a smidge closer to her newfound friend. "What's your friend like?"

Alphonse softly smiled back and thought for a moment. "Well... he's much older, and he has long golden hair and golden eyes. Oh, and he wears an old tattered cloak. He's got a wicked motorcycle, and a shotgun too."

"Wow!" Nina smiled genuinely. "He sounds cool."

"Yeah, he is. And the best part is that he's immortal. I mean he literally can't die!" Al said while folding his arms and nodding confidently. "I know because I've been with him for a while. We're pretty tight."

"Wait, so he cant die _at all_?"

Al shrugged and shook his head at the same time. "I dunno, probably. But he's never given anyone the chance to kill him. I mean, he's got this psycho named Greed or something that wants to kill him, and this crazy asshole named Mustang that's also after him. They both tried and failed many times. And the Mustang guy can even control the fires of hell, yet he manages to escape both of them!"

"How can he do _that_?!" Nina curiously exclaimed while imagining her rescuer and hero.

"How am I supposed to know? Edw- I mean Fullmetal never told me how."

"Oh... so that's his name? Fullmetal?"

Al sighed and gazed passed the girl as if to see Edward himself. "No, that's what others have called him. They say he cheats death and is a force to be reckoned with. But once you get to know him, he's not so bad."

"I can't wait to meet him," Nina daydreamed.

"Yeah, he's cool." Alphonse paused and bit his lip after realizing something. "But we only have two seats on his bike, so you wont be able to come with us."

The girl frowned and teared up. "You mean he won't rescue me?"

"No!" Al said somewhat frantically. "I'm just saying that once you're free, we'll have to part ways."

"Oh...,"

Before either of them could speak again a man showed up at the cell door with a wicked grin on his face.

"It's my turn to have you little girl," He spoke in a menacing and pleasurable tone. "So get ready!"

"No!" she shrieked back, scooting away to the very corner of the cell.

"Haha! You can't stop me! And neither can you, brat!" he said to Al. "Or do I have to break another bone?"

Al flinched and curled up tighter, holding his arm stiffly in order to escape the throbbing pain.

"That's a good boy. It's a shame Master wants you all to himself. He should be back from the raid soon... just don't tell him about your arm, okay? I don't want to be-,"

"Be what?" A voice echoed down the hall, causing the creepy man to flinch and shake.

"M-master! I had no idea you were back! I was just making sure y-our... your-,"

"Shut up and get out of my sight before I kill you," the approaching man demanded angrily. With a cry and shaking bones the menacing pale man ran away in terror.

"So, you're the boy that I was informed of?" he asked. The man wore a bright white suite with a matching hat that covered his black hair. He had a wicked and evil grin with eyes that desired the pain of someone's soul. This man scared Al more than the rest of the animals that he had seen.

"You know, you should feel grateful that I hand-picked you out, boy. Not many get the privilege of being my personal property."

The white-suited man they called Master squatted in front of the cell door and looked in. Al looked back at him and frowned, quickly averting his eyes from the wicked stare.

"You're afraid."

Al remained silent.

"What's your name boy?"

Nothing.

"Well if your going to ignore me like an insolent little brat, then I'm gonna have to-,"

"Leave him alone you creep!" Nina shot back, balling her fists in anger. "Don't call him names and don't touch him you freak!"

The master's eye twitched as he looked at her, veins in his face throbbing. If there was one thing he hated more than anything in the entire world, it was the annoying disrespect of a child.

"Listen little _girl_ ," he sneered. "If there is one thing you don't want to do, it's to make me mad."

"I don't care! You can't hold us forever! We have a friend coming to rescue us!"

Al's eyes shot open as he went to speak, but he quickly clamped it shut again.

"What's that? A friend? Coming to rescue _you_?" the man mocked.

"Yeah! And he's on his way here right now so you better let us go!"

The white suite looked past Nina and eyed the young boy. "Is that true kid?"

Al hesitated before shaking his head, Edward would never be able to bust them out without the element of surprise. "No, she made it up."

Nina whipped around and looked desperately at Alphonse. "Y-you mean you lied to me? He's not coming?"

Al flinched when she began to cry, burying her head deep between her knees. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hahaha! Well, well! I always love the heartbreak of false hope early in the morning! Maybe I will forgive you after all."

"B-but...," tears began to stream down the little girl's face as she collapsed to the ground. "I thought we were friends...,"

Another pale and skinny guy walked up to the cage and grinned, asking for Nina. The Master huffed and agreed, opening the cell door for him to take her.

"No don't!" Al yelled, jumping up and trying for the door before it shut. But it was too late, and all his actions earned him was a stare from the man and a sharp pain in his arm.

"Let her go, please!"

"Hahaha! I wont let her go! I've been looking forward to this!" He grabbed the girl by the arms and began walking away.

Alphonse stared after them blankly. It wasn't the man, or the Master, or the sick fantasies that scared Al right then and there. It was the look in Nina's eyes as all hope drained out of her soul to the point where she didn't even fight back or make a sound as she was led off.

"N-nina...,"

* * *

Time continued to pass ever so slowly, the cell stealing the ability to tell the time of day. Day or night Al couldn't tell - and to be honest, he didn't care. All he could think about was Nina and what was being done to her and the fact that the last thing he said to her had made her give up. All the boy could do was sit and slowly starve both body and soul of food and hope. Usually by now they would have brought her back, but Al was still alone. He felt so hopeless - not even tears were left to cry. He had several more plates of limbs tossed at him for "food" but he refused to eat any of it, wondering if Edward would ever show up. Was he wrong to lie to Nina? Was he wrong to keep Ed a secret? No, he had to. He had to keep any chance of rescue a secret.

But, as time passed it seemed more and more like there really _was_ nobody coming, like rescue was nothing but a fairy tale that manifested in his mind. He couldn't help but think of Edward and his bike and gun, and how he saved him from the threat of the Capitol. How they talked on the side of the road and how he grew to rely on Ed, even if it was only in a short period of time. But was it all a lie? Was everything fake? Did Edward ever care for him? Or was it a game? Maybe the Capitol would have been better, maybe death was better than this place. Why didn't he come? Why did Ed abandon him? Was this his final fate? Was the last thing he would ever do was to break a poor girl's spirit? To lie to her? Was he as bad as these monsters, stealing away her hope? Maybe he _was_ a monster, maybe that's why Ed never came, and wasn't going to. He killed a man, that makes him a horrible person, right?

But... Edward killed many people and he's not a bad guy. Or... is he? Maybe he intended on leaving him as soon as possible, and this was the perfect opportunity. What if he was all alone? Or maybe he wasn't, maybe if he was good enough he could join them? It would be better than torture, so maybe he was destined to become one of them. If he was already a monster, and everyone he cared for abandon him, maybe this is what he deserved? Or maybe he deserved to be stuck in this cage forever, continually being used as a source of pleasure for them. He was strong, wasn't he? Or was his mind breaking? Was he finally giving into madness? Nina never came back, and it seemed as if the people passing his cage were fewer by the day. Maybe he would never see anyone again, both human and inhuman? What if they left him alone forever, never to see or hear another soul again? He would be alone again, and again, and again. Was he as monstrous as the men in this place?

"Kid... kid!" A voice rang out, interrupting Al from his thoughts. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Al remained silent. Whether out of defiance or sheer broken will, it would never be known.

"Anyway, I'm here to take you to the Master, so get prepared."

The boney pale man opened the door and walked in cautiously, surprised by the uncharacteristic calmness of Al. He then shook it off and grabbed him by the wrist and led him away, Al not even making a sound or protest. The duo walked down the ominous hallway that revealed rows of jail cells, all surprisingly empty. It was as if they were the only two there. They kept on walking and rounded a corner to the right that revealed steel stairs. They loudly rang out when they walked up them. The entire place was concrete and steel, Al noted - the perfect place to muffle screams.

"We're almost there," he stated, looking back at the boy in tow. Al's head was just handing down in defeat.

"So you finally broke, huh?" the creep guessed while turning another corner, leading Al to some unknown destination. "Don't blame ya, but fair warning: the master don't like quiet ones, so you won't live much longer if you stay like this."

Alphonse shrugged carelessly. "That's okay."

Instead of frowning or feeling bad for the young broken child, the pale man grinned and chuckled to himself.

"We're here."

He opened a door and pushed Alphonse in, slamming the door behind. The room had maple hardwood flooring and ornate decorated walls with beautiful paintings. Elaborate crown molding and velvety red furniture decorated the place along with a warm fireplace that was set ablaze. An antique rug filled in the floor and an old grandfather clock chimed in the background, completing the massive contrast to the rest of the building.

"Welcome," the man in the white suite greeted. "Have a seat."

Al looked about him in wonder as he made his way to a soft red chair that was lined with gold.

"Would you like something to eat?" the Master offered while gesturing to a beautiful coffee table filled with succulent and colorful foods. "You can have any."

Alphonse sat down in the chair and stared at the food, his mouth practically watering as his stomach began to digest itself. He was _so_ hungry.

"Why would you let me have them? Are they poisoned or something?"

The white-suited man laughed and reached over to grab a large and juicy drumstick, taking a bite out of it for proof. "Its perfectly good, see?"

Al's eyes grew even wider as the man proved the lack of poison. Was it too good to be true? As Al went to stand up, a pair of steel hand restraints came out of the chair and clamed around his wrists, causing the boy to squirm.

"What the hell?" he asked out, pulling on his wrists.

"Haha! I said you could have some, didn't I?"

Al paused in confusion, wondering what was going on. "B-but I'm chained up, asshole."

"I said you could come eat. Now eat," the Master repeated.

"I can't! I'm stuck in this-," he quit half way, noticing the evil look in the mans eye. All this was on purpose.

"So," The man got up and walked over, picking up a pastry that was sitting on the silver platter. "You're not hungry then?"

Al's stomach let out a loud rumble in protest as he watched him eat. But his captor only smiled. "Too bad, and I worked so hard to prepare all of this for you."

He returned to his seat and sat down, staring down the starving boy. "So what's your name?"

"What do you care?"

"Because I like to know the names of my property, it is how I keep track. Let me introduce myself first. I'm Kimblee, Solf Kimblee. Now it's your turn."

Alphonse remained quiet, earning a frown from Kimblee. "You know, I don't like quiet people. They're... boring."

Al shrugged and let his head sag in defeat. The food in front of him was torture.

"Let me show you something," Kimblee said as got up and walked over to a door on the opposite wall that Al arrived in. It was a large oak door decorated with ornate designs. He opened it and let the sunlight pierce though the room, watching as Al looked up.

"You can go if you want, its alright by me. In fact, you can take some of this food with you! Go ahead, all you have to do is get up and go."

Alphonse twisted his wrists and fought against the steel braces than held him in place, causing blood to seep down his arm.

"Come on boy, you can just go, I'm growing impatient."

Tears rolled down his cheek as he fought with the last bit of strength, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't get free.

"Too bad, I thought you wanted to leave. Well, I guess I get to keep you then." Kimblee grinned and shut the door, making his was back to Al.

"You know, it's nice to have such loyal property. I gave you food and a way out and you stayed here... with me."

Al looked up and clenched his fists, but before anything could escape his lips, a loud bang was heard, blowing the door handle clear off the ornate oak door. In one swift and decisive motion a steel-toed boot kicked the door in, causing Kimblee to whirl around.

Before Alphonse could figure out what was going on, however, Solf Kimblee was lying on the floor dead, blood pouring from his shotgun wound.

* * *

 _Salutations my friends! I am so sorry for the long wait, life got crazy with personal and family stuff along with me graduating high school and celebrating. Yay!_

 _But anyway, thank you all so much for being patient and sticking around as I slowly wrote this chapter, you guys really are the best! I have so much fun with this story, so be prepared! I just might have some crazy stuff for the future. Yeah, probably... Most definitely... For sure, haha XD_


	9. Chapter 9

_**~Chapter 9~**_

 _ **One Week Ago...**_

His legs felt incinerated and his lungs were screaming for air.

The Fullmetal was fit and rather muscular with a well-shaped and rugged body, but even _he_ was having a hard time continuing on after running for three days straight. The freaky bastards had stolen his bike along side Alphonse, leaving the outlaw both pissed and determined. He was going to get them back - he had to. He had to save Al from those monsters, from the hideous stories told about their cruelty and perverseness.

He ran on. Through the vast wasteland that was filled with hard, chalky dirt, only the several moons and the large-ringed Saturn to keep him company. The days were hot and brutal, causing the red-coated alchemist to sweat out any bodily water that would sustain his life. The nights weren't any better, offering him only freezing temperatures and wind that bit at his very soul. The only thing that made them bearable, however, were the millions of sparkling stars that littered the vast, black and purple sky. As he ran he couldn't help but to admire the way the large planet sat on the horizon, illuminated by the dimming moons and the bright stars. Though the wasteland was inhospitable, it had its beauty.

Three days the outlaw trudged on until his body began to reject his will. After three days of constant jogging, walking, and running, the Fullmetal finally slowed to a stop. His lungs were shriveled and his legs beyond numb. All he could do was collapse to his knees as fatigue, hunger, and thirst took over. Slowly his eyes fluttered closed as darkness overwhelmed him.

* * *

"Wh-what the-," Ed mumbled as he awoke, surprised to find himself on a worn-out mattress. Questions immediately flooded his brain - where was he? What had happened? It felt like he was recovering from a hangover, something which he was familiar with.

"You're awake," a deep, monotone voice emotionlessly spoke.

Edward sat up to find himself in a messy and rundown bungalow. It had a roof that resembled straw of some sort, and crude walls made from logs. It was as if the place had been quickly constructed. With the bungalow only having a single circular room, Ed wasn't surprised to see the man sitting on a mat not far from where he was laying. In front of him was a glass of water and a bowl of gruel.

"How are you feeling?" the man asked. He possessed snow white hair and dark, tanned skin like leather, along with crimson eyes and a large "X" shaped scar over his face. "You've been out for three days."

"I'm alright," the outlaw replied vaguely while observing his surroundings. "What is this place?"

The scarred man gave a small sigh. "You're in my temporary bungalow. I saw you collapsed in the wasteland and decided to shelter you from the elements. You have metal limbs, correct?"

Edward consciously rubbed his shoulder port and smirked.

"And you seem to have a past, too," he countered, referring to the man's scar while avoiding the question.

"We all do - and mine had brought me here. I am a traveler, a nomad who has no home."

"You seem to have a pretty shitty one here," the Fullmetal joked as he rolled his stiff shoulder. The scarred man, however, found no amusement in the statement.

"This isn't my home. I simply construct and deconstruct this small hut when I decide to move; it's made from portable parts and is not as simple as it may look."

The man got up and stretched, walking over to the cloth that draped where a door would have been. Pulling it aside, he exited the bungalow and disappeared. Curious and having nothing else to do, the outlaw scarfed down his meal and slowly stood up, wincing at his stiff joints. Apparently running for three days straight wasn't the greatest for your knees and hips.

"So you're a nomad, huh?" Ed asked as he stepped out into the sunlight, blinking at the brightness as his vision came back into focus. He wasn't too surprised at what he saw - vast nothingness. They were still in the middle of the wasteland.

"Yes," the scarred man answered simply, keeping his gaze set upon the horizon.

"So, do you have a name, nomad?"

"You can call me Scar."

"Wonder how you picked that...," Ed teased.

"And how about you, outlaw?" Scar countered.

Ed paused and stared at the strange traveler in front of him, at how simple he was between the plain white tee and rags he wore and the bungalow he slept in. Yet there was more to him than meets the eye.

"You can call me Fullmetal."

"And you mocked my name of choice," Scar spoke, a subtle smirk forming across his lips.

Ed shrugged and walked over, standing next to him. "It was given to me by those who have heard of me; I never asked for it."

"And amongst the outlaws there was one of legend, a man never to mess around with. They say he's got golden locks that drape over his broad shoulders, and a rough and worn face that boasts a single large scar over his right cheek. He was garbed in a tattered and beaten cloak, said to be colored red with the blood of his enemies. He was unforgiving and unforgetting, and he never missed his target. But the one thing that stood out above all was his metal arm and leg, said to be granted to him by the devil himself as a reward for cheating death one too many times. His name? No one knows, no one wants to. The only thing he's known by is Fullmetal, the man that rides on wings of steel."

Edward's eyes widened as he heard Scar speak as if he was reciting a piece of literature or legend. Their eyes met, Scar looking into him as if to see his soul.

"Even I, a simple nomad, have heard the legend of the Fullmetal. It is not everyday you see him passed out in the wasteland."

Not knowing quite what to say, Fullmetal sighed and looked out, watching as the debris circled around Saturn to form its well known ring.

"Which way was I heading?" he demanded, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Though Scar seemed harmless enough, and even saved him, Ed wasn't unaware of the many enemies he had made. The sooner he could leave, the better.

"Into the moons," the snow-haired man replied. "Though you'll die if you try again. Must be someone important."

Ed shook his head and couldn't help but grin. There _really_ was more to this guy than what meets the eye. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Then you better save him."

"How do you know-,"

"I know many things, red-coat. I have traveled this world many times over, seeking a home that would accept me. I have found pain, misery, death, hurt, and the occasional speck of false hope." the snowy nomad glanced over to the shocked blond. "And then... and then there are people like you, who are secluded and self-sustained in this harsh world. A person who desires neither a home nor a family, someone who has been hardened from life's circumstances. But despite all that, your heart remains intact and you find something to fight for, be it yourself or someone else."

"And you?" the outlaw inquired.

"I am but a man that doesn't belong; who has been cheated by fate and robbed by death - for I have witnessed too many perished lives... yet have live myself, though I do not deserve it."

The traveler abruptly walked away and rounded the bungalow, disappearing out of sight for a moment before returning with a horse.

"It's not as fast as your bike, but she'll get you where you need to go. The old prison isn't far - you'll reach it before moondown if you ride hard."

The outlaw's eyebrows laced together as he slowly accepted the reins of the horse. "You're giving me a horse and letting me go, just like that? No deal, no agreement?" If there was one thing Ed was aware of, it was that nothing came free or easy in this world.

Scar chuckled quietly and shook his head. "No. I know what it's like to lose someone you care about, and I would wish it upon no one. Your metal limbs tell me all I need to know about your past, as I'm sure my scar reveals more than words. We all have our pasts, Fullmetal. What matters now is where we are going. Some call it the future, others call it destiny. But really, its just one more choice that defines us as human beings."

Edward slowly nodded and mounted the horse, gripping the reins as he set his eyes upon the intended direction. "You're a mysterious bastard, you know that?"

Scar let a small smile grace his face. "As well are you, outlaw. May we meet again."

And so the man known as the Fullmetal shook the scarred man's hand and rode off into the vast wasteland. The horse he rode on was a silvery grey, with piercing blue eyes and an unwavering spirit. If anyone were to see him, they would truly understand what it meant to ride on wings of steel.

* * *

The large and spirit-like moons began to sink on the horizon as the light reflected off of them dimmed down. With the decrease in light, however, came a decrease in warmth; and with the old prison coming into sight he would have to move quickly.

 _"Makes sense,"_ Fullmetal mused to himself. _"_ _I can't believe I forgot this place was even out here. It's just so out of the way, it makes sense that it would be their hiding place - damn buildings being so sparse out here and all."_

It didn't take long for the blond to have to slow down as he approached the prison gates. He had two things going for him: the cover of darkness, and the element of surprise.

"Shh, go on back," he whispered to the horse. And with a solid neigh, it was as if the silver mount understood its time serving the outlaw had come to an end. "Thank that mysterious bastard for me, will ya?" he tagged on the end, right before the steed ran off.

Upon closer inspection, the old prison was half buried by dirt, only half of it appearing above ground. It seemed to have a skeleton crew watching the perimeters at night, so this was his only chance. The crude gates seemed to be left open as if they wouldn't close, and thus attracting the majority of the watch guards. If he could hop the wall somewhere else, he'd be inside the prison perimeter just like that.

The outlaw slunk low and crept up to the large stone wall that encircled the half buried prison. Despite it being worn down and weathered, there was no hole or crack for him to squeeze through. He had to be careful not to attract the attention of the watchful eyes that sat above him.

"Damn it...," he cursed, "how do I get in?"

Edward sighed and kept a low profile, spending a large amount of time slowly casing the wall for any breech point. But as time passed on and his hopes fled, he eventually made it back around to the gates without a single entry point other than the obvious.

So an idea manifested inside his head - a desperate, dangerous, risky plan that would probably get him killed. But what other option did he have?

"Lets see...," the red coat observed, making note of the initial layout of the prison. It only had two stories that were visible, and an unknown layer underneath the Earth. Along with that there were two guard shacks at each corner of the gate-side wall. Assuming this place to be symmetrical, Ed guessed that two more shacks were tucked away in the opposite corners of the prison grounds. Now as to where his bike would be, his only mode of escape, he had no idea. Assuming he could find it, and that his shotgun was still holstered on the side, the plan would be pretty smooth... well, in his head anyways.

 _"Now or never...,"_

Ed sighed and stood up, shaking his head as he simply walked up to the gates. As he entered to spot light that flooded the entrance, loud and hoarse voices were heard shouting at him.

"Who the hell are you? On your knees!" was one.

"We have someone at the gates!" was another.

"Tell the Master!" was a third.

Edward got onto his knees and raised his hands, awaiting someone to make their way down to him. And, as expected, they did.

"An' who are you?" the approaching man questioned. To Ed's disgust, he was pale, skinny, ugly, and looked fitting for the stories told.

"I'm-," Ed had to choose his words carefully, for they meant life or death on the spot. "I'm simply a wanderer seeking shelter from the cold night. A nomad, of sorts."

"Oh? You're one of them scum that just wanders around like a dumbass?"

The outlaw shrugged and maintained eye contact with the freak. "Yeah."

"Well, it seems like we have a traveler on our hands boys!" he shouted out, causing Ed to question if he had chosen his words wisely.

"Yer coming with me," the boney man grinned maliciously, pulling out a gun and pointing it at the outlaw.

The red-coated man sighed and stood up, complying to every demand given to him. With a gun speared into his back, Edward was herded into the front double doors of the prison. Upon entering the prison, they seemingly walked into the lobby where visitors would have been checked in back in the day. The creepy man escorted Ed to the right, leading him to a set of stairs. As they walked, he tried to take in as much information as he could. So far there was no sign of Alphonse or where his motorcycle was being kept. However, assuming that the lower, buried levels were meant for prisoners, and that they wouldn't have unnecessarily carried his heavy bike up to the second level, Ed guessed that his bike was somewhere here on this floor.

"Move faster, asshole," the armed Storm Rider demanded, shoving the gun deeper into the blond's spine. "Or I'll blow yer back out."

As they approached the stair case, he knew right away that if he went down there, he was never coming out. He had to move now before he was cornered into an inescapable dungeon.

Ed suddenly dropped to the floor, catching himself with bent arms that left his body mere inches from the floor. With a swivel of his hip, he was able to pivot around on his palms like a top and leg sweep the man. Caught completely off guard, the skinny and pale animal came crashing down and accidently firing his weapon as a result.

"Shit!" Ed cursed to himself. It wasn't nearly as stealthy as he had planned, or hoped it to be. He quickly arose and lifted his heavy steel toes boot, letting it come smashing down on the victims head and causing his skull to crack open.

"What's going on in there?!" several voices shouted out in response to the echoing gunshot. "What the hell happened?!"

With the need for speed, the outlaw broke into a sprint and headed back to the lobby, quickly crossing it to the other side of the prison. With guards on his tail, Ed had no choice but to pass by each room, quickly looking inside for spoils. He only hoped he didn't miss it.

"Stop him!" a voice echoed down the hallway, clearly upset at the disturbance.

 _"Dammit! Where the hell is-,"_

And, much to his surprise, he popped his head in an open room and found his bike just sitting there with the shotgun holstered.

"Is this for real?" he asked himself while charging in and whipping the shotgun out. It had managed to be the only part of his plan that felt convenient.

"I'm gonna rip you to pieces you piece of-,"

The paled man was cut off by a shotgun blast, his body dropping in the doorway. There was no way Ed would let them touch another child again. Using the room as cover, he fired off round after round into the monsters that kept flooding in. Soon, the doorway was filled with bodies and blood as dozens of men were killed on the spot.

"And you called me a dumbass...," Ed spoke to himself as he stepped over the many bodies and out into the hallway again. So far, so clear.

With steel boots pounding against the concrete flooring, Edward ran as fast as he could to a different set of staircases that lead upwards. Skipping two steps at a time, the determined outlaw flew up the steel stairs and onto the second floor. Greeted by more maniacs, he gifted them the same fate as their fellow comrades.

Death.

Shotgun blasts echoed through the hall as the body count rose. They were so frightened by the onslaught that the boney morons forgot to fire their weapons. Ed kept at it, mercilessly ending the lives of anyone that appeared before him, his rage beyond words as he imagined the unimaginable things done to countless people and children. He was unforgiving and unforgetting.

Once the second floor hallway was filled with the dead, the blond found an outside exit that lead to steel scaffoldings that rounded the building. Without wasting any time, he burst through the door and onto the steel platforms, running along it as it slowly inclined to what appeared to be a third floor. And to his utter surprise, he found an ornate wooden door at the end. And as he kicked it in with all his fury, a single, lone tear streaked down his cheek and raced off his jawline, glistening in the night as the only tear he ever shed in a very, very long time.

* * *

It all happened so quickly. Kimblee was dead on the floor and Edward was standing in front of him, ripping the steel restraints off of his wrists. With tears of both sorrow and joy, Al embraced the warmth of Ed's body as he was picked up.

"I'm going to get you out of here," the outlaw softly spoke while carrying Al out of the room. All the boy could do was bury his head and cry as he felt himself carried away by the only person he cared about. Relief flooded his body so quickly that he went into an emotional shock, blacking out from the starvation and the sudden rescue. The last thing that was running though Al's mind was what the final blow Kimblee dealt to him.

 _"Oh, and that little girl you were so acquainted with? I thought you'd want to know that she is no longer with us. It's a shame really, that she wasn't strong enough to endure my men. Oh well - she was pleasing enough while it lasted."_

And the Fullmetal indeed carried the small boy out of there, cradling him like precious cargo until they reached his motorcycle. Keeping Al in front of him so that he wouldn't fall off, he placed the fainted child on the bike and sat behind him, riding out of the monstrous prison and into the cool night.

And now, if anyone were to revisit that horrid place, they would find countless dead bodies scattered across every floor. They would find the remains of what the world knew as the Storm Riders, single-handedly wiped out by a man of legend whose determination and fury was unmatched.

* * *

 _Okay, so I have to admit I had, like, three different ideas on how to do the whole back in time thing and what should happen to Ed. But then, when I sat down to write, all of a sudden Scar showed up and was like "How 'bout you put me in there as a mysterious wandering nomad who lives in a portable hut and pretty much knows everything."_

 _So, I thought it over and figured it to be way better than my other ideas. Who would have guessed that Scar could give literary advice? Guess there is a poetic side to all of us XD_


	10. Chapter 10

_**~Chapter 10~**_

"So, I was thinking..., was there any place specific you want to go?" the red-coat wondered, hoping for a reply this time.

Morning had come and the moons were light once more. The duo had put a decent distance between them and the cage Al had been held in. Ed had to admit, they got _really_ lucky... the whole reason all this happened was because they had run out of gas trying to get to the old diner he knew of - so when he decided to rescue Al, the biggest gamble he took wasn't the ability to locate the motorcycle, but the hope that it even had gas.

"Guess with my old hideout burnt to hell, we have no place to go. We could stop by North of Nowhere for some supplies if you want, since we were heading there to begin with."

"Where?" Al replied in a quiet and defeated tone. The outlaw frowned - ever since he regained conciseness, the boy hadn't said but five words. As they rode the night away and into the morning he remained quiet. Edward had tried to make conversation to no avail, Alphonse only shutting him out.

"North of Nowhere is the old diner I was talking about before-," the outlaw abruptly paused and mentally rearranged his words, "-when we were leaving the gas station."

Al didn't reply. He just sat on the back of the motorcycle with a loose grip around the elder's waist.

"Listen... if, you know, need to talk or anything I-,"

"I'm fine," Al interrupted. "Leave me alone."

Edward frowned and sighed, looking down at the etching of angel wings on the gas tank. Below it was the saying he was so familiar with:

 _"On Wings of Steel I Ride."_

The outlaw let loose the handle of his bike to trace the engraving with his finger. Had he gotten there too late? No, Alphonse was alive and that's all that mattered. This was just another scar to bear. They would get through it - they had to. But what was he supposed to say to Al? What _could_ he say?

Very soon a grin painted itself on Ed's face as he turned his head to address the boy.

"I know where we're going to go. It's on the way to the diner, so it'll be no big deal. Besides, I think you'll like it."

The only response Edward received was a shrug, but it didn't matter. He knew where they could go, and he hoped that Al would like it. And so, with the twist of his wrist, they were off. There was but a single trail left behind them as they rode on into the day, dust trailing behind the quiet pair of souls. There was very little talk that could barley resemble a conversation - instead, Edward rode on and Al sat in silence.

:::

At high noon they reached the old highway, whose asphalt was greyed and cracked by time itself. It was the one road that faithfully cut through the entire vast wasteland and resembled a savior to those that were lost. But Edward knew the land better than any, deciding to ride the weathered road for a change of scenery. There were various places to stop along the way as most of the buildings were built along this mother road long ago, but none of them were the desired destination.

"You know, there used to be more roads than this out here," the outlaw informed for entertainment. Alphonse remained quiet, so Ed decided to continue.

"This is the only road that was paved through the entire wasteland, connecting the north to the south. There was another one too, that went entirely east and west. But as soon as the government went to shit they decided to rip it up so that travelers, merchants, and rebels couldn't use it. In this way the citizens and people were forced to use one single road to travel. Conveniently, the same road was well guarded and restricted," Ed smiled softly and continued to talk to the boy in hopes of comforting him.

"Remember when we first met, and you asked how I knew where I was going?" he prompted.

"Yeah...,"

"Well," Fullmetal continued with a brighter tone, relieved to receive an answer. "Saturn is north and the moons are south. So when I went to trade those guns, I simply followed the road north to a small town outside of the Capitol. You see, the Capitol sits at the north end along with what used to be all the rich and wealthy. To the south of the wasteland was the slums and the poor. The government used the term _North of Commoners_ to represent themselves as being more important and in control, trying to make the people of the south feel like trash. I guess their whole reasoning is that _north_ is the top of the compass that sits _above_ the rest. Anyway, it's not exactly like that now. The entire Capitol was turned into a massive and highly active military base, ruining the lives of everyone living in it. The towns around the Capitol have been left untouched, so to speak, in the simple fact that they still live in the same home. The ironic twist to all of it is instead of being known as rich and wealthy, those living in the north are treated harshly and called _Dogs of the Capitol_ , or _Dogs of the military_."

"Sounds like they deserve it though," Al responded. Although Edward couldn't see his face, he could tell by the boy's tone that he was smiling - if only by a bit.

"Yeah, I suppose they do, huh?"

"So, you remember all this?" Alphonse wondered.

"Well, most of it. I was really young back then - younger than you actually. I just remember the change of life, going from eating and sleeping in safety to being herded like livestock and forced out of our homes."

"Wait," Al demanded. "I thought you said the only people who were forced to actually leave their homes were those living in the Capitol walls."

"Yup."

"So...," Al began to connect the dots, and once he did he couldn't help but grin and playfully hit the elder's arm. "You were richer than rich? You actually lived _inside_ the walls?!"

Edward smirked, glad to see the boy liven up. He had _never_ told anyone of his past... but desperate times call for desperate measures. "Yeah, I was a rich kid."

"Your shitting me...!"

"Nope, it's the honest truth. We had a mansion, three meals a day, and a butler named Sebastian."

"Holy shit!" Al exclaimed.

"Yeah, and a library too with all the books you could think of, every one having a gold plated cover."

"For real?"

Edward chuckled and shook his head. "I'm just messing with you, they didn't have gold covers."

Alphonse frowned and slugged the Fullmetal's arm again. "But you _were_ rich, right?"

"I swear."

"Damn...,"

"Then everything changed...," Fullmetal gave a small sigh as they continued traveling down the highway. "Shit happened and what you see is the product of it all."

"Did you have a metal arm and leg as a kid?" inquired Alphonse.

Edward shook his head and looked back at the boy. "Nah, happened later on in life."

Al fell quiet again as pain and sorrow filled in his heart. Ed had managed to lighten the situation for a bit, but it barley made the boy smile. All that could be heard from the two was the loud rumble of the motorcycle's engine as they went on their way.

* * *

"How can I help-," the bartender offered, but cut his words short one he saw the uniforms. In front of him was a man and a woman, both garbed in faded blue military uniforms. The woman had blonde hair and a look in her chocolate eyes that could melt you. The man had raven-black hair and an eye patch, fire seemingly burning behind his soul.

"We're looking for an outlaw," the man demanded, walking in as if he owned the place.

"Outlaw, huh? Don't think I've seen one of em' for quite some time," the owner of the retro diner replied.

"He fled in this direction. And with the simple fact of him associating with this place we believe he may have come by here," the woman informed.

"You have a description?"

The raven-locked man approached the counter and sat down at a bar stool, eyeing the man. "Long red coat, long blond hair. A scar on his face with a metal arm and leg. He usually wears an ammunition belt around his chest."

The bartender thought for a moment before reaching for an empty glass, running it under some hot water. "I think I know the man."

"Has he been by here?" the woman inquired.

"Not for a long time," the owner replied, grabbing a rag and drying the beer glass. " I remember him, though - he asked for a shot of _milk,_ if you can believe it. As badass as he was, it caught me off guard."

"So he hasn't been by?"

"Nah, but he fixed ma' jukebox over there. Used to repeat itself like a damn bitch, but now it works without issue," the bar tender mocked, eyeing the woman.

The woman smirked at the bartender's crude and derogatory remark, pulling her gun out and shooting the glass in the man's hand.

"Some are straightforward and to the point. I always hate misunderstandings, for they can be quite messy. Do we have a misunderstanding here?"

"N-no m-ma'am...," the owner shakily answered.

"Then we're done," she added before walking out, leaving both men with wide eyes.

"Damn...," the owner mumbled, glancing down at the shattered glass on the floor.

"Best not to piss her off," the male soldier returned before leaving to join his subordinate outside.

"Sorry, sir," she apologized.

"Little sensitive there are we, Hawkeye?"

Riza looked out at the vast nothingness. "It took everything I had to get here as a woman. I don't like when that's looked down upon."

Mustang grinned and patted her back. "I get it."

"With all due respect, sir, you don't."

Roy shrugged his shoulder and made his way back to the car. "Well, whatever. You left that man pretty shaken, though."

"Rightfully so," Riza said.

The car doors opened and shut as the two soldiers climbed in to contemplate their next move.

"Where to now?" the woman inquired.

"We head back and gather more resources. Tracking this bastard has taken up too much of my time and I can't neglect my other duties. I think it's time we pool some more information and strategize the next move."

So with the turn of a key the car started, making its way back up the asphalt road and back to the Capitol with two soldiers - one determined to reach the top and kill the Fullmetal, and the other still pissed at men.

* * *

"Almost there," the outlaw spoke, breaking the silence. They had followed the old highway for quite some time before veering off into the wasteland. As they kept on traveling, the asphalt road seemingly disappeared behind them while something strange began to form ahead.

"Is that where we're going?" the boy casually asked.

"Yeah, almost there."

As they approached the strange destination it gradually became clear. In front of them lay a large, wrecked airplane. The bike's ride soon smoothed out as they hit the runway of a disappeared airport. Continuing down the worn runway revealed the old and weathered plane, its hull split into two as the front of the plane and the rear made a "V" shape.

"Whoa...," Al quietly admired. From the looks of it, it had to have been a cargo plane due to the sheer size of it. It also possessed a large rear hatch that was open, proving Alphonse's theory's true. As they approached the aircraft it became clear that the metal was rusting and beginning to change color from the years of the moonlight beating down on it.

They rode up next to it and halted, Ed turning the engine off and putting the kickstand down.

"We're here," he announced, a small smile on his face. The outlaw observed as the boy dismounted and walked up to the massive wreckage.

"This is amazing...," Alphonse had never actually _seen_ an airplane before. He read books that talked about an ancient knowledge of aviation and how people could actually soar among the clouds. About how planes could take many people from one destination to another one in record time. But he figured any aircraft to be long gone.

"Another fine work of the government," Ed chuckled.

"You mean the Capitol did this? They're the ones who got rid of flying?"

Edward walked up to the wreckage with fondness and lifted himself onto a broken piece of the wing, sitting down and inviting Al over.

"Yep, the Capitol restricted any use of aircraft and made everywhere a no-fly zone. If you were caught, you were shot down."

"Is that what happened here?" the boy inquired, jumping onto the wrecked wing and joining his companion.

"Yeah... this was a cargo plane. A bunch of people boarded with their children and supplies in hopes of escaping and finding another world out there. Another land that was less suppressive. But...,"

"It didn't end well," Al finished, sighing.

"It's best if you don't go inside...," the outlaw said.

"They didn't even get a chance. All they wanted was freedom-,"

Alphonse suddenly froze as his body went cold, tuning out the rest of the outlaw's sentence. His eyes began to tear and his hands shook. That was all Nina wanted - _freedom_.

"You okay?" Ed asked, pausing and observing the obvious pain. "We can leave if you want... I thought it might be fun for you to see one of these."

Al wiped his tears away with his red sleeve and suddenly jumped down, running around the wreckage and disappearing out of sight.

"Shit...," Ed cursed, remaining where he was. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all, bringing him here. What was he thinking? He figured it would be a cool sight for someone who's never actually seen an aircraft... but the story...

"Why the hell did I tell him about it being shot down? Dammit Edward, you suck with kids, you know that?" he scolded himself. Whatever had happened inside that prison was unforgivable and unforgettable. But it seemed like more than meets the eye.

"This place hasn't really changed," the outlaw reminisced. "I used to come here long ago to think...,"

Ed shook his head and closed away the memories. He knew how Alphonse felt, and what he was going through. He himself had gone through it as a kid. It wasn't relating that he had a hard time with - it was conversing and relaying that to Alphonse.

 _"How did an outlaw like me, the damned Fullmetal, end up caring for a kid...?"_ the blond chuckled to himself, grinning at how unexpected life can be. And with all the nightmares life had unexpected thrown at him, it was nice to have a change of circumstances. Because believe it or not, he felt like a big brother to the boy... like maybe he was meant to protect him.

Although, Fullmetal would never admit that to anyone of course.

* * *

 _And there we have it! Chapter 10! I officially made it to the double digit chapter! Yay! XD_

 _When I write Ed and Al, I cant help seeing the resemblance to Joel and Elle from "The Last of Us". I don't know if any of you have played the game or not, but its amazing! And I couldn't help being semi-influenced by their relationship. And YES! I did reference Black Butler when I mentioned Ed having a butler named Sebastian. I have been completely compelled and obsessed with Black Butler, and seeing's how I gave kid Ed one... I HAD to name him Sebastian. Hahaha! So let me know if any of you are fans as well :)_

 _Also, you probably noticed I added two chapters today, but the second one isn't a "Chapter". What is it? Just check it out! Anyway, cant wait to see you in the next chapter!_


	11. Appreciation Letter

**_~Appreciation Letter~_**

Hello friends! Before I get started and explain what this is, I want to clear away any misunderstandings that might arise. Ahem: _**THIS IS**_ _ **NOT**_ _ **THE END OF "On Wings of Steel" OR THE CREDITS OF THE STORY. THERE ARE MANY MORE CHAPTERS TO COME.**_

Glad that's cleared up XD

So this is pretty much one big author's note, or an appreciation letter as I like to call it. When I published _"On Wings of Steel"_ in March, I honestly wasn't sure if anyone would like it. I said to myself. _"Self! You have this idea and you wrote it down! You should post it no matter what anyone else thinks, and if you have fun writing it then by all means write it!"_ (Yeah, I talk to myself sometimes. Okay... a lot. Haha)

So I did :)

And little did I know that in almost three months I would be here with you guys, reaching 10 chapters, 52 follows, 42 favorites, and 51 reviews. I know that probably sounds small to some, but its not to me. It's a big mile stone for me and every person that either favorites, follows, or reviews means the world to me and makes my entire day. Every single on of you is special to me and it makes me so happy that you enjoy my writing and story. But you're not just special because you're with me on this journey, each and every one of you is special in your own right; bringing joy and happiness to this world.

So I hereby reach through your computer, phone, or whatever your reading this on and give you a big hug.

So what this is, is me thanking every single one of you in person by making a list of everyone. I want to sincerely say ** _Thank You_** to those that have joined me on this journey so far, and to everyone in the future. I hope and pray that more people come along and have fun as I write this, so I hope to do another appreciation letter once I reach 100's, then 150's, and so on. So without further ado,

* * *

First and foremost I want to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for blessing me with each and every one of you. For the kind words and constructive criticism, for the support and the smiles you give me.

Second I would like to thank AiroctivElnyn, my beautiful sister, for beta reading my chapters. My biggest priority is providing you guys with quality work and correct grammar and punctuation. She is a whiz at both of those and is strong where I am weak, so it's thanks to her that no errors slip through the cracks.

Now, I would like to start with the followers, favorited, and then those who have reviewed. If you have done both, or all three, then your name will appear on each list accordingly. I would like to specify that the names are in a specific order, _alphabetical_ order in which the website has arranged them. When I click "Manage Stories" then see who has followed, favorited, or reviewed, this is the order that the website give them. This is to help you find your name quicker and to ensure you that I didn't put the names in order of "favorite reader".

Once the capitalized names have ended, the lowercase names begin in the same alphabetical order.

* * *

 _ **I would like to sincerely thank those who have followed "On Wings of Steel"**_

* * *

1TitanGirl

Ace724

AiroctivElnyn

Alana33

AlliCats212

AnaLogic

Angelshalo03

Another-Jane-Doe

ChaosKnight005

Don't Speak Of The Attic

EdwardVanElric

Emi107

FlamingFlyingFoxOfDoom

Four Winged Wishes

Galaxia Girl

Gomboc123

KD14

Kai Alison Flame

Kiriko the 22 tails

Life's Journey

Lil'OldNarcissisticMe

Literature work

LuvversLuvvie

Mermaidhorse

Messenger Tweet

Night Phoenix Whisper

PaperBunny10

RainyLove

RobinLover321

Sapphire1270

Sen Elric

Siiillltt

Skiing-girl

The Unnamed Sin

Thotful

TigerL1ly81

TutuHime

Wild Rose 900

xyrlea

android727

dork121

duhorcommonsense

inuyashamunkey

lilaclilly00

lollipop99

lurkingMe

mahado 2009

mishap

oni-neko ninja

queen angela

stebehling

supcha

* * *

 _ **I would like to sincerely thank those who have favorited "On Wings of Steel"**_

* * *

1TitanGirl

Ace724

AiroctivElnyn

AlliCats212

Another-Jane-Doe

Attackoneverything

BeASlumberingDragon

ChaosKnight005

Don't Speak Of The Attic

DoomsdayBeamXD

Emi107

FlamingFlyingFoxOfDoom

Four Winged Wishes

Galaxia Girl

Kai Alison Flame

Life's Journey

Literature work

Luzydeath

Messenger Tweet

Niccy2hu11

RainyLove

Raging Thunder

RobinLover321

Sirdimsum

The Unnamed Sin

Thotful

TutuHime

Wild Rose 900

alixelle

dork121

faithfreedom

katjacks14

kryquett

lenaroger

lexiravenclaw284

lurkingMe

oni-neko ninja

queen angela

skittles126

stebehling

twinSky

* * *

 _ **I would like to sincerely thank those who have reviewed "On Wings of Steel"**_

* * *

1TitanGirl

Ace724

AiroctivElnyn

Angelshalo03

Attackoneverything

DoomsdayBeamXD

Ephemyst

Gomboc123

Guest

KD14

Kai Alison Flame

Literature work

Niccy2hu11

TutuHime

andorid727

inuyashamunkey

lilaclilly00

lurkingMe

I aint tellin

* * *

Phew! Got it all down XD

If you've read this far, or found your name in the list, I just want to say thanks for taking the time to read through this. I truly appreciate each and every one of you, and I hope I made that clear. Without you I would be a simple wisher, a writer hoping to make people smile. With you, I am a grateful write who smiles back. Like I said in my profile. The English language consists of 26 letters, each of them re arrange to tell a story: a combination of 26. And I am truly blessed to share my _26 Combo_ with you.

God Bless you all, and I cant wait to see you in the next chapter

-Sincerely,

26 Combo


	12. Chapter 11

_**~Chapter 11~**_

The wind picked up, ruffling the sandy blond hair of the small boy. Alphonse knew that Ed was trying his best to cheer him up, but it all felt pointless. Life felt pointless. How could he smile when Nina cried? How could he laugh when she screamed? How could he be free when she was trapped?

How could he live since she was _dead_?

"Hey...," a familiar gruff voice softly spoke. Al didn't look over his shoulder - he just kept staring out into the dry wasteland.

"Can I join you?" the outlaw gently asked, waiting for Alphonse's response. All he received was a defeated shrug, so Edward followed the boy's lead and grabbed one of the airplane seats from the wreckage and dragging it next to Al.

"Listen, I didn't mean to upset you. I just...,"

"Its okay...,"

Ed gave a faint smile as he took a seat next to the saddened boy, the dislodged seats being much more comfortable than the wrecked wing. They sat in silence for a while, letting the warm wind blow through their hair and the sun heat their skin.

"Kinda nice, huh?" the red-coated blond prompted.

"What is?" Al responded after a bit, a curious frown appearing on his face.

"Sitting here with nothing to do, letting the quiet be uninterrupted. Could get used to it, ya know?"

Alphonse shook his head and glanced over to the elder. "I never pegged you as the quiet picket fence kind of person...,"

Edward let out a chuckle and reclined in his chair, lacing his fingers together behind his head with closed eyes.

"Ah, you're right. Never have been. I've always preferred an open road to a nice home, a shot gun instead of a good book, and my motorcycle instead of a nice warm chair. I can never manage to stick to one place very long... I just keep going for no other reason than to just survive."

The boy looked him over with a subtle smile, slowly nodding his head in agreement. "Yeah... me too."

Edward opened an eye and looked at him, smiling in his relaxed state. "Oh yeah?"

Al grinned a bit and shrugged, some of his old personality coming through. "Yeah, always been a nomad myself. Never having anywhere to belong to."

The outlaw smiled back at the boy's glimpse of normality, sitting up and engaging in further conversation. "Sounds like you and I are alike."

Al nodded with a bigger smile, but quickly sighed and looked away with sadness. The small glimpse of happiness faded away and sorrow arose once more. How could he compare himself to Ed? Edward was amazing and tough and strong and brave and wouldn't have let Nina die. He, on the other hand... he was just a dumb little kid that hurt people, that couldn't save an innocent little girl.

"We're nothing alike...," the hurt boy whispered.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because...,"

The outlaw looked him over, wondering what exactly had happened in there. He wasn't surprised that Al was acting like this - anyone would be after _that_. But what was he supposed to do other than ask what was wrong and try to help?

"I used to come here a lot," Ed spoke, changing the subject in hopes of bringing out the old Alphonse he knew.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, when I was younger," Fullmetal continued. "It was when I first got my bike and I was riding around. I happened upon this place and stayed here for a while. Eventually I moved on to other places, but this airplane never left my mind. So... periodically throughout my life I would stop back here and sit. I would imagine what it was like to fly in something like this, wonder what the next day would hold; you know, shit like that."

Al suppressed a small grin and shifted in his seat, watching as the reclined and relaxed outlaw continued on with his story.

"Anyhow," the red-coat began again, lacing his fingers once more and putting them behind his head. He gazed up at the stars reminiscently, "I was never known as 'the Fullmetal' back then, though. I was just an outlaw new to the life of... well, an outlaw."

The boy suppressed another smile, but this time it showed a bit more behind it. The Fullmetal opened one eye to observe Al's expression before continuing on.

"I had no damn idea what the hell and outlaw really was to be honest. I just knew that I had no one and no place to go to - only a bike and an open road. Well, I spent many of hours riding by myself and those hours quickly turned into days, weeks... years. You'd' be surprised how many abandoned cars still have gas in them. Anyway, like I said, I wasn't known as anybody back then. Just a no-good, worthless criminal in everyone's eyes, a man with metal limbs."

Ed adjusted in his seat and let out a deep breath, closing his eyes as he sighed softly.

"You said your friend made your metal limbs, right?" Al wondered, intrigued by the elder's story. Fullmetal only smiled a bittersweet smile and nodded, taking in a deep breath before going on.

"Yep, she sure did. She was a mechanical genius... a complete gearhead," Ed paused and quickly forced down the sudden swell of emotion that arose in his chest, clearing his throat before going on. "She stuck with me through hell, her and Granny. When I was on my own and I had left them... shit when down and they found me; they found me and they saved me. She swore to me that she'd make me walk again, give me a new arm and leg. Naturally I called her an idiot, but she proved me wrong. I just up and abandoned them out of my own selfish reasons and yet they saved me, _she_ saved me and designed these metal limbs. Designed and invented them just for me."

"She sounds amazing...," Alphonse imagined, wondering how such a pure hearted person could even exist. "What was her name?"

The outlaw continued to keep his eyes closed so that no tears could leak out. Al thought he was just relaxing, but really there was a barrel full of emotions being contained.

"Winry. Winry Rockbell."

"That's a cool name."

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

"How did she die?" the boy further inquired, hoping he wasn't intruding too far.

"Gunshot through the back of her skull...,"

Alphonse frowned and glanced down, kicking up some dirt with the toe of his shoe. "Did... you find who did it?"

The outlaw chuckled to himself in a desperate attempt to stay level headed with the boy, not wanting him to see the pain and regret that begged to overflow.

"The bullet went _out_ the back of her skull and into the wall after she put the gun in her mouth. I... I always wondered what her last thought was before she pulled the trigger."

Al couldn't help but to tear up, sniffling as the sparkling droplets of liquid ran down his face and wet the dry dirt. Edward opened his eyes and gave a soft smile, reaching over and wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"Its okay little man, you don't have to cry. It's alright now - that was a long time ago."

The boy looked up at the blond with red eyes that were flooded, balling his fists together. "B-but if I don't cry for you, who will?"

Edward pulled the young boy into a soft hug, Al wetting his shoulder with a stream of tears.

"You weren't the one who killed her... I did. The last things I ever said to her were full of hatred and anger. Not at her, but at myself. I was angry with myself and I took it out on her, I _constantly_ took all my anger out on her until one day it paid its toll. Until one day I'd never see her again. You know what that's like, huh?"

Alphonse pulled away and wiped away his tears, looking up with utter surprise while trying to figure out what to say.

The outlaw offered another soft smile and playfully shrugged. "I've looked in the mirror for years and seen the same face you've been wearing for a while now. I just know."

The boy burst into tears again and lunged forward, wrapping his little arms around Ed's torso and hugging him tight. Edward gently embraced him and ran his fingers through the boy's hair.

"I-I killed her too," Al sobbed into the red coat "I t-told her you'd rescue u-us, that she w-would be okay. Then I lied to h-her and said n-none of that was real."

"Its okay...," the Fullmetal soothed.

"A-and they t-took her away... she looked at m-me and cried... s-she gave up because of me a-and now she's d-dea... d-ea... dead...!"

The hurting child hugged the outlaw much tighter, letting out all the pain and tears that had been suppressed inside. All his hurt and hatred, all his regret, sorrow, pain, and anger were cried out all over Ed's red coat. The outlaw knew that Al wouldn't be magically better the next day - no, it would take time to cope with something like this. But it was a step in the right direction at least, and Edward swore he'd take care of the boy... for Winry.

"It's going to be okay...,"

* * *

"Sir!" Riza spoke, causing Mustang to look up from his desk, which was unfavorably covered in paperwork.

"What is it?"

"Sir, reports have come in that rebellion activity has been reported at the south entrance to the Capitol. Apparently a number of rebels have set up camp at the southern gates in an attempted 'siege'."

"A siege?" Roy repeated, irritation etched onto his face.

"Yes, it seems that they won't let any supply trucks or military contraband move through."

"In other words they're forcing us to use the longer, northern route to the city?" the raven-locked solider deducted.

"Yes, and the higher-ups want _you_ to take care of it."

"Me?" Mustang rejected, shocked. "Why the hell would they ask me to-,"

"I suggested them to you, Sir." Riza interrupted.

"Why the hell would you-,"

"It would be quite the accomplishment to report back up the ladder. I figured you'd want the opportunity," the Lieutenant cut in again.

Roy smirked and leaned back in his chair, fingering a well-used pen. "And how the hell do you figure I can take out an entire camp of rebels by myself?"

Hawkeye shrugged and turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. "From what I can tell, the rebels are banded together in a small concentrated camp. A camp consisting of _flammable_ cloth tents, Sir."

She turned and smiled slyly at him, leaving to continue on with her other assignments. The raven-locked warlord boasted a wicked grin and set the pen down, folding his hands and resting his stubbly chin on them.

"Atta girl."

 **: : :**

The rebel camp was larger than Mustang had expected. There were about a dozen dark red tents that were bundled together in front of the southern gate. Within the camp was about 600 men, 50 to each tent. Each constructed tent held its own weaponry that was stored inside of wooden crates filled with hay. Each soldier within the sieging camp was well-armed and ready to die without hesitation.

"Never seen anything quite like it," a lower-ranked soldier commented to Roy. The both of them were standing atop the Capitol's wall, looking down at the camp and the vast ocean of desert surrounding it and the Capitol.

"It's not that impressive. We have thrice the amount of solider just guarding the _walls_ , let alone the actual ground troops at our disposal. They don't know what the hell they're doing."

"Do we just scare them off then?" the insignificant soldier wondered aloud.

"No," Mustang shot back. "They won't leave without a fight and any form of resistance will only lead to a waste of resources and supply."

"Then what do we do?"

Roy grinned and pulled a pair of ignition gloves out of his pocket, slipping them on with fervor. "I'll burn them like the rodents that they are."

The soldier winced and looked down at the camp, observing the men and women bustling about busily. None of them were _actual_ soldiers... just ordinary men and women serving and fighting for a cause that they believed in.

"Doesn't that sound harsh...?" the soldier questioned. "I mean they're just people, aren't they?"

Roy shifted his gaze from the rebel camp to the soldier, shooting him an annoyed look. "You're saying we should let them live? Let them get away with treason?"

The soldier shrugged and looked back down, frowning at the oncoming massacre.

"Well... yeah. They don't deserve to burn to death. Maybe we should try to help them or convince them to-,"

A gunshot rang out causing the lowly foot soldier to collapse to the ground, blood spewing from his skull and pooling behind the petrified look frozen on his face. On the other end of the gun was an irritated Mustang, who holstered the gun before sighing.

"Any form of sympathy is an act of treason against the Capitol and is treated as such, punishable by death," he recited to the dead corpse. The black-locked man bent down and picked up the dead body, throwing it over the wall and smack dab in the rebel camp.

"And...," Roy waited, smiling on cue as he heard the growing screams and cries of the rebels who evidently found the body of the solider. "Traitors will burn."

A snap of his fingers and a line of fire was shot straight at one of the red tents, igniting it instantly. More screams and cries arose as he snapped eleven more times, individually burning each and every tent. Once they were up in flames he cracked his knuckles and took aim at the fleeing men and women, burning them to a pulp as they ran.

At the southern gate of the Capital a giant bonfire could be seen, burning the lives of hundreds of men and women who only fought for a better tomorrow. Upon the top of the massive stone wall stood the man behind the raging-hot deaths. He smirked wickedly,

"Ah, the flames of hell always warm my bones...,"

* * *

Nighttime had set in causing the moons in the sky to dim and disappear, leaving the outlaw and the boy in the quiet dark amongst the stars. They had moved from their chairs and laid flat on the cool earth, their hands behind their heads as they stargazed.

"There sure are a lot of them," Alphonse commented fondly. "Do you think there are other worlds?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, places _other_ than here," Al vaguely described.

Edward chuckled and imagined an alien planet, filled with green Martians who had unnecessarily long antennas.

"I really don't know."

The duo fell silent as they simply laid there and look out into the cosmos, trying to forget the past and ignore the future.

"You okay?" the outlaw asked, wondering if their earlier conversation had helped.

"Yeah... I guess so. I dunno, I just still feel so...,"

"Empty and alone," Ed finished.

"Yeah, more than usual."

The bright stars twinkled against the black and purple sky as if they were winking at the two lost souls, promising them that it would be alright. The temperature continued to drop, going from the heat of the day to the cool of the night. But it didn't bother them - no, they were content to feel the nipping wind. It meant they were still alive.

"I knew you'd be a handful when I found you," Ed joked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Al laughed back.

" _Especially_ when you stole that damned handgun out of that bag. Nearly got me killed when I went to trade them."

Alphonse smiled at the memory. Although he felt guilty in the moment, he was smiling back on the memory now as if it were meant to be in a scrapbook of pictures.

"Well, you suck with kids," the boy retorted teasingly.

"Oh yeah?" Edward grinned, turning his head to engage his playful opponent.

"Yep. Threatened to abandon me, tell me I make the bike go slower, show me an airplane of corpses...,"

"Hey now, I did rescue you from that hell hole. Are you so soon to forget?"

Al shrugged. "Doesn't make up for the rest of it."

"Oh really?" the Fullmetal scooted his feet towards him so that his knees lifted into the air. "Because as I reckon it, I'm in the positive."

"The positive?"

"Yeah, more good deeds then bad," Ed grinned at the boy, enjoying their playful debate.

They both turned their heads to the sky again, taking in a deep breath and watching as a shooting star graced across the night sky.

"Make a wish," Al spoke in a half serious and half joking way.

"I wish for a nice pint of beer," the red-coat sighed.

The boy chuckled to himself and slowly shook his head in fondness.

"I wish...," Al attempted, falling short at a lack of idea. "I wish... I wish for another shooting star."

"What?" the elder wondered. "What the hell kinda wish is that?"

Alphonse turned his head to address the outlaw, dirt dusting his hair.

"Yeah, think about it. Next wish I'll wish for two shooting stars, then three, then four, and keep going as I compound my wishes and get everything I want."

The outlaw laughed to himself and looked into the sky as if to see a barrage of shooting stars. "That's smart, kid - I give you credit on that one."

And, as if on cue, a massive amount of shooting stars were launched across the sky in an annual meteor shower, littering the sky with shooting light.

"Holy shit," Edward bluntly stated, watching as the meteors streaked across the sky. Alphonse, on the other hand, couldn't help but wear a giant smile.

"We're going to be alright," Ed concluded. They watched the meteors until one last one danced across the sky, wishing them well.

"Yeah...,"

* * *

 _I gladly present to you chapter 11! Wait... shouldn't I put that **before** you read the chapter? Like, how can I present you something you've already read... Eh, formalities right? Its way too much fun to break the mould, especially when people stare at you. Hahaha! _

_Yeah... I'm weird._

 _So first of all, THANK YOU all SO much for the super kind reviews and comments about my Appreciation letter. No one has ever said something like that to me, and you totally just put a permanent smile on my face for, like, the rest of my life XD_

 _I've actually been working on a Creepypasta to try my hand at it. I enjoy horror movies about, supernatural, poltergeists, dolls, stuff like that. Although I enjoy a good scare, I'm not a fanatic about them. I've seen Chucky, The Conjuring, The boy, Nightmare on Elm Street, and went and saw The Conjuring 2 in theatre XD_

 _So, I said to myself. "Self, lets see if you can write a Creepypasta." And so I did. I plan on posting it either today or within the next few days on and try my hand at it. So if any of you are interested in that kind of stuff, you've been warned. It was my first attempt at it so try not to laugh too much._

 _Talk about breaking the mould, making people laugh on a website about paranormal stories. Facepalm time._

 _Now that I've done rambled on, I better get to writing the next chapter! Is Al okay? Where will the duo go next? How will Mustang fit into all of this? I have to answer these questions!_

 _Or have I already answered them? You know, in my head. Guess you'll have to wait to find out XD_

 _Cheerio!_


	13. Chapter 12

**_~Chapter 12~_**

Mustang let out an exhausted sigh, setting down the well-used pen and cracking his knuckles.

"Damn paperwork...," he muttered, leaning back.

No more did the man recline in his desk chair, however, when a familiar face appeared in his office doorway.

"Sir."

"Yes?" Roy huffed, hoping his undesirable assignments for the day were over.

"They wish to speak with you," Riza informed, hiding all emotion from her face. She was unsure whether it was good news or bad news.

"Now?" Roy questioned. "It's almost time to lea-,"

"Yes."

Mustang furrowed his brows and sat up straight, contemplating the situation before waving Riza off. She offered a faint smile before turning and leaving her superior to his thoughts.

"Dammit...,"

The dark-haired soldier sighed and stood up from his desk, walking out of the office and down the hallway. His military boots clomped on the floor, echoing in the empty hallway. Most of the soldiers or employees had gone home for the day, so the office wing was nothing but a skeleton crew. The-eye patched warlord continued on, making many a turns* before reaching a distinctive and unique doorway that read:

 _President's Office_

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, opening the door and proceeding inside.

"Hello," the President greeted as Roy shut the door behind him. His large chair was turned so that the back of it was facing Mustang, hiding the country's leader from sight. The soldier walked over and took a seat on a royal-like, blue velvety chair, crossing one leg over his knee. It was _much_ more comfortable than his well-used office chair, he realized, and almost melted into its soft embrace.

"Greetings Sir," Mustang politely answered back. He by no means respected or feared the President - in fact he despised the man with reckless ambition. But in order for a dog of the military to move up he must sit when told and attack when commanded, no matter how much he internally despised it.

"You called for me?"

The giant and elaborate chair swiveled from side to side, yet still hiding the President from sight. "Yes, I did. I want to address you about the so called 'siege' those rebels tried to attempt the other day."

Mustang nodded out of habit, shifting in his seat and folding his hands in his lap to make himself presentable. He had to look well composed and professional in case the President decided to suddenly turn around.

"From the reports I've received it seems as though you singlehandedly took out a camp of 600 armed rebels, effectively and efficiently quenching their rebellion and saving recourses and time," the hidden leader said in a monotone voice.

The raven-locked subordinate let a grin slip across his lips before answering.

"Yes Sir. That is correct."

"And the foot soldier that was with you? He never reported back to his post."

Roy winced a bit, remembering the crime he had committed. Confessing that he shot and killed a military comrade out of cold blood would result in immediate demotion and a painful death. He was, however, an accomplished liar and mastered manipulator after years of experience.

"Yes Sir," Mustang said smoothly. "He confessed to me that his resolution was to join the rebels and aid in their cause. He wished me not to burn the camp and kill them; instead he would rather have had me join him in his treachery."

"And were you going to?"

Roy shook his head although the man couldn't see. "I'm sitting here before you Sir, with a pile of burnt bodies at your southern doorstep. With all due respect, if I was going to become a traitor I sure as hell wouldn't be sitting here."

Mustang couldn't see it, but a smile graced the lips of the President. Not one of pleasure or happiness, but a grin of complete and utter control... a man drunk with power.

"Good," he mused, "It's crucial that we take care of outside traitors. But it's even more crucial we kill those on the inside. How is a player supposed to win if all his chess pieces refuse to move? Or how is he supposed to claim victory if the pieces aren't loyal but, instead, break their designated pattern of movement and become unpredictable?"

"He can't win," Roy agreed.

"Precisely. And there is one piece that I'm concerned about, as of right now," the President informed.

"A piece that surrendered loyalty, Sir?"

"Not quite. A piece that, if left unattended to, could very well convince my pawns to rebel as well. I need my knight to wipe him out and assure me that the board remains the same."

"And who am I supposed to go after?"

The large chair swiveled again to signal some kind of emotion. "You're familiar with him as you've dealt with him before. He is a lowly traitor that has succumbed to the scum of this Earth. He was once a proud military officer that deserted and joined the rebellion, fighting to destroy what he once supported. This man was seen fleeing from the attempted siege, making his way to a small town not far from here. If he is left unattended to, I fear that he will divulge what had occurred to the camp. You are to track him and kill him. That is all."

The dark-haired soldier stood up and saluted the back of the elaborate chair, walking over to the President's mahogany desk and grabbing a lone file that sat on top of it. "Your knight will ensure you that. My movement is clear and uncompromised - you don't have to worry Sir."

* * *

"Is everything alright, Sir?" Riza worried, keeping her pace up with her fast superior. The duo had made their way out of the Capitol building after a quick pit stop at Roy's office, proceeding down the outside stairs and to a car. They hopped in and sat there as Mustang opened the file, looking over it before starting the car.

"Everything is fine Lieutenant, no need to worry. Just another assignment from up the ladder."

Hawkeye smiled and nodded, leaning over and peering at the opened file. "It's good that you're receiving orders straight from _him_ now."

Her superior flipped the page to find a picture of his target paper-clipped to the page, a name written right below. Both Hawkeye and Mustang knew who he was and had earlier run-ins with the deserter.

"It says he was reported fleeing to a small town near here...," Hawkeye read.

"Yes, and it's our job to find and kill him."

Roy skimmed through the rest of the file that stated what he already knew; namely the suspect's date of birth, date of desertion, previous known locations, crimes, known associates, danger level, skills, and mission goal.

"Ready lieutenant?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir."

The car started up and took off, leaving the large headquarters behind. They drove through the city-turned-military base, observing the movement of weapons and transportation of soldiers.* It was once an upper-class city that hosted the richest of the rich, a peaceful and plentiful place to live. Now it was nothing more than a war stained, government infested stronghold that was practically impenetrable. If you walked within the large stone walls of the Capitol, you were a soldier - a pawn of the military.

"Anything on Fullmetal?" Riza inquired along the ride, keeping her gaze out the passengers window to observe the passing people and buildings of the Capitol.

"Not much, but then again I've been tasked with other duties to take care of. My guess is that he's long gone. We'll just have to wait for a report or sighting of the bastard to pick up the cold trail."

Riza shifted her gaze to the raven-locked driver. "If I remember right, the town we're going to is one of the meeting places where Fullmetal and the rebels would do business."

Roy smiled and made a turn, making his way through the large Capitol.

"I believe you are right, lieutenant. Maybe we can extract some information from a couple of rebels before returning. Although I serve the president with what he thinks is undeniable loyalty, the Fullmetal is my primary priority. I _will_ be the leader of this damned country... his chair is mine."

Riza smiled at her superior's ambition, feeling fondness towards him. He was a man on a mission and was willing to achieve it at any cost. He was unshakable and strong beyond belief, making every other man look weak and flexible. He had a steel will and an iron fist with a raging fire in his eye. One day he would become the leader of this country, and she hoped to be by his side through it all, through everything now and forever. She would settle for no less.

"It's strange tracking down a man we used to work with," the blonde said thoughtfully. "It seems like only yesterday that he walked these streets."

Roy nodded and made another turn, growing closer to the gates. "Anyone willing to desert their cause is a coward and deserves punishment. Old friend or not, I am assigned to deliver him to the gates of hell."

"Agreed Sir."

The duo finally reached the gates of the Capitol, stopping the car and waiting for them to open. One the massive gates slowly opened, the soldier drove on through and out into the waste land; heading straight for a small town.

 **: : :**

It was only a couple hour drive though the dry wasteland, the lack of scenery causing boredom and unsettlement. Soon enough, however, several buildings appeared on the horizon.

"That's our destination," Roy spoke up, breaking the silence.

They continued on, the car leaving a cloud of dust behind them as they approached the town. Before they knew it they were within, weaving through run-down buildings on a make shift road. People turned their heads and scowled at the government-issued car, hatred deeply evident. Some spit at them, some ran inside, and others just ignored it. The soldiers drove slowly, keeping an eye out for any rebels. After some time, however, nothing seemed to turn up.

"You're sure he's here, Sir?" questioned Riza.

Mustang let out a big sigh and stopped the car, putting it in park and pulling out the case file again.

"It says here that he was last seen heading to a town outside of the Capitol. Considering the direction he was heading and the rate of movement, I calculated that this was his most probable destination."

Riza nodded and looked out her window for any suspicious activity. There were kids playing in the street, women hanging laundry in the yard while their lazy-ass husbands sat on the porch drinking, and others just walking to and from their homes. It was an ordinary enough town with no sign on suspicious behavior.

"S'cuse me," a male voice arose, causing Mustang to look out his rolled down window. "Are you from the Gov'ment?"

Roy nodded, returning his focus to the file. "Yes."

"Whatcha soldiers doin' here? We aint done nothin' wrong."

Roy waved him away like a pest. "Official business."

"Oh?" the townsman wondered, leaning into the car to read the file. "What kinda business?"

The black-haired soldier huffed and pulled away from the intruding man. "None of your damn business, now leave before I kill you and everyone you hold dear."

The man's eyes grew wide as he stepped away, turning and leaving the car.

"A little harsh don't you think?" Riza chuckled, amused by her superior's irritation.

Roy closed the file and looked up, scoffing. "Got him to leave didn't it?"

Hawkeye smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, but I think he's gonna have-," she paused suddenly, her attention snapping to a figure out Mustang's window.

"What is it lieutenant?"

"I think I just saw him."

Roy quickly turned in time to see a man disappear behind a building. "Yeah, that's him alright."

They hurried out of the car, not even bothering to close the doors. Roy lead and Riza followed as they crossed the street and rounded the building they saw him disappear behind.

"There he is," Hawkeye pointed out. The duo watched as he took a right, heading down an alley situated between two houses. Roy and Riza glanced at each other before tailing him, letting the man leave the alleyway before making their way through it. One the solders appeared out the other side, they caught a glimpse of the man jogging down the street, ducking into another alley. With a nod, Roy lead the way down the empty street and to the back alley. A quick peep revealed the suspect making a left.

"He's zigzagging," Riza observed, noticing his backtracking.

"Yeah."

They ran through the dark alley, avoiding the many obstacles that were carelessly laid in the street. Once they emerged from the other side, their person of interest quickly crossed the main street and entered an ordinary house, a house that the two soldiers figured to be a hideout.

"Bingo."

Roy ran across the street, ignoring the glances and curses of the townsfolk. One they approached the door, Mustang drew his gun and roughly kicked it in in hopes of catching the man. But as they looked around, he was no where to be seen.

"Dammit!" the raven-locked pursuer cursed, "Where the hell could he have gone?!"

Riza kept her gun out and entered the nearby kitchen, observing the spotless counters and the empty fridge that was left open. It was unusually clean for a town like this.

"There's an exit here, Sir." she called out, approaching the back door and opening it. It lead to a fenced-in backyard, complete with a tire swing and broken junglegym equipment.

Mustang barreled out of the back door and into the yard, looking around for any signs of the escapee.

"He must have hopped the fence."

They both sighed and holstered their weapons, the superior placing his hands on his hips.

"Dammit!" he yelled out, kicking the ground in frustration.

"He's still in the area. If we just keep sear-," Riza's suggestion was cut short by a loud bang that sounded like a trash can falling over.

"That son of a bitch is mine," Roy grunted before drawing his gun. The soldier vaulted over the wooden fence and into a neighboring yard. He sprinted across in the direction of the noise, jumping and vaulting several more fences before landing in yet another alley that was positioned between two homes. At the end of the alley, however, was the suspect picking himself off the ground.

"Not this time asshole...," Roy aimed his gun a fired at the man, the bullet piercing through his leg. A scream could be heard from the person of interest as he got up and hobbled into a side door that lead into one of the houses connected to the alley.

"Damn bastard has stamina..." Mustang grunted before taking off, his lieutenant close behind. Before he knew it, the escapee was corned in the house with a gun pointed at him. All the prey could do was scoot into a corner and stare down his predator.

"Wait!" the man called out, shifting his gaze as Riza came running into the house with her gun drawn.

"That's definitely him," Riza huffed, out of breath. Mustang scowled down at the escapee,

"It sure is," he sneered. "Isn't that right... Jean Havoc?"

Havoc gave a weak smile, the well-smoked cigarette falling from the corner of his mouth. "Mustang, long time no see."

Roy kept the gun aimed at Jean's head, his finger against the trigger.

"I'm here to kill you Havoc."

"No rest for the weary, huh? That's what you used to say all the time Roy," Jean said, hoping to delay his impending death. "You were always one dedicated dog."

The raven-locked predator twitched an eye in irritation, ready to pull the trigger. Sensing the deadly anger, Havoc held his hands up in protest.

"Wait! Wait, I can still help you. You need me alive."

"And how do you figure that?"

"I can get you Fullmetal! You always wanted to kill that bastard right? I have connections, people that feed me information!"

Roy calmed down a bit and slightly lowered the gun, his finger still on the trigger in reserve. "What the hell are you talking about, Havoc?"

Before the rebel could answer the soldier's question a nearby phone rang, causing the military deserter to smile.

"Here, I'll show you."

* * *

"Is it okay kid?" Edward asked, taking another sip of cold beer. The outlaw and the boy had left the plane wreckage and made off into the wasteland, reaching the old diner in just over a day. Once they arrived, they immediately sat down at the bar and ordered food and water to satisfy their empty stomachs.

"Freaking delicious. I haven't eaten in almost two weeks."

Fullmetal was forced to swallow a gulp of his beer, almost choking on it in surprise.

"Shit, I had no idea...,"

Al shrugged and scarfed down a huge bite of pancakes, taking a drink of water will a full mouth. He was clearly excited to fill his stomach.

"That boy needs more meat on his bones if you ask me," the diner owner commented, smiling at how happy the boy was.

"What's this place called again? North of Nowhere?" Alphonse asked in-between breaths. He felt like he could eat forever.

"Yup, proud of it too. Belongs in the family, and now it's my turn to take over the place," the bartender said proudly.

Fullmetal smiled and took a bite of his meal as well, drinking large gulps of his pint of beer. He was clearly more excited about the cool liquor than the hot food.

"Say, you've been in here before haven't you?" the owner wondered aloud, receiving a nod from Ed.

"Sure have, fixed your jukebox remember?"

The owner smiled and snapped his fingers in recognition. "I remember you! You're that outlaw!"

Edward shrugged and took another drink from his glass. "You can call me that if you want. I'm just a drifter, really."

The bartender smiled at him, glancing over to Alphonse who was busy stuffing his face.

"If you two gentleman will excuse me, I need to make a call."

The crimson-coated outlaw gave a thumbs up as the man disappeared into the back room of the diner, picking up the phone and dialing a number. He waited as the phone rang.

 _"Hello?"_ the voice on the other end asked.

"Havoc, is that you?" the owner confirmed.

 _"Yeah, you have impeccable timing. What is it?"_

"It's about that Fullmetal outlaw you asked me to keep an eye out for, I think he's sitting at my bar now."

 _"You sure about that? What's he look like?"_

"Long red coat, long blond hair, metal arm, scar on his cheek, rode up on a motorcycle with some kid."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone as if Havoc was waiting for approval.

 _"Yep, that's him. Keep em' busy. I've got a fellow here who's rather interested in our fellow outlaw."_

The owner of "North of Nowhere" nodded and hung the phone up, returning to the famished duo.

"Eat and drink all you like!" he exclaimed with a false smile. "It's on the house today!"

Alphonse smiled back with a mouth full of pancake. "Thanks mister!"

* * *

 _Oh my gosh! I have sooooo much fun writing this story! I sit down and the ideas just pour out with a big smile! I cant stop laughing for some reason, I just have way to much fun writing this!_

 _I read something the other day and it made me think. I wish I could take credit for it, but sadly I cant. It reads:_

 _"There are two types of writers, those who garden and those who are architects."_

 _Now, I'm pretty much ALL gardener with a small side of architect. Like, I have a basic idea of: "Ed and Al leave the airplane and go somewhere... Something happens with Mustang and Riza... Introduce Havoc."_

 _Hahaha, yeah its that vague. So when I sit to type, I "garden" it and it all just springs to life I suppose. Anyway, I wanted to share that with you guys. It helped give me a sort of identify as a writer and I hope it does the same with you! XD_

 _(P.S Did anyone just think of SpongeBob when I said identity? I guess I'll always be a kid at heart! XD )_


	14. Chapter 13

**~Chapter 13~**

* * *

"So what, you have informants? Connections to people who tell you what you want to know?" quizzed Roy after his suspect hung up the phone.

"Yeah, something like that."

"And Fullmetal, he's at that diner?"

"Yeah, the guy who owns the place keeps tabs on certain people of interest. It's not hard to do when your the only rest stop out there." Havoc slowly stood up, his hands above his head. "I'm just going to take a seat in the next room."

Mustang readjusted his aim to the man's head with an expression of disapproval.

"Yeah, I don't think so."

Havoc sighed, wracking his brain as if to reason with the threat.

"Listen Roy, we've known each other for a long time. Now I know when I left-"

"Left?" the angry superior cut in, "You didn't leave, you _abandoned_ us! You left your cause, your commitment, your comrades!"

The fugitive winced. It was true, but it wasn't without cause. If only he could make his old friend see.

"I couldn't take it, being treated like a bitch. Going where they told me, killing who they said. Life was just a file full of orders without explanation. I would faithfully do as I was told, no justification needed. But you know what Roy? After a while - no, after _years_ of doing a soldier's duty, I began to wonder just what the hell it was we were accomplishing. We killed who we were _told_ were bad, who they said deserved it. We captured, destroyed, built, and carried out deals that were _supposed_ to be beneficial. But at the end of the day you know what was left? Broken families, widows, orphans, pain, tears, hatred... Death. We caused all that! _WE_ did! So yeah Roy, I left. I didn't want to cause any more grief to the innocent. I joined the rebellion as an informant, an information keeper. I'm worth way more alive to you than I am dead- especially if you want to catch that outlaw."

Not an ounce of agreement or remorse was in the eye-patched killer. He simply stared down what he knew the man to be: a traitor.

"Listen, you're going to give me a list of names- contacts you know and talk to. You're going to tell me the identities of all who keep an eye out for Fullmetal, and any other shitbag for that matter. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll keep you alive if I find you useful enough."

Hawkeye glanced at her idol with concern. "Sir, this was a direct order from the president. If you don't kill him now you'll be tried for treason."

Jean smirked and shook his head. "Straight from the top, eh? Looks like you've kissed the right asses."

A loud shot rang out, piercing the wall inches from the deserters head.

"Names. Now."

Havoc froze for a second, surprised at the ruthlessness of his friend. Mustang clearly wasn't the man he used to be when they worked together, not even close. He then walked into the other room and retrieved a pencil and paper, sitting down at the table and beginning the list.

"Just for the record," Jean began as he wrote, "This is my contact point. It's in this house here that I make and or receive phone calls, meet with informants, or make deals. I have one in every major slum."

Mustang kept his gun pointed at the list-maker, watching as names were being scribbled down. It wasn't long before the piece of paper was shoved his way.

"Here's the damn list."

The soldier snatched the paper and looked it over for any familiar names. "Your contact points, I want them too."

"Sorry, but... that's called my leverage, old friend."

Growing rather annoyed with the whole thing, Roy stepped closer to his captor and pressed the barrel of his gun to Havoc's forehead. "You don't have jack shit. I don't care if I blow your brains out right here or not, I'll find out the locations in only a matter of time. So don't even _think_ about becoming useless to me. I want to know every move that bastard makes, and I mean _every_ move. I call you once a week for an update, and if you don't give me something worthwhile I'll track your sorry ass down and cap you. Any urgent information you get, I get told. You don't eat, sleep, drink, or take a piss before even thinking about telling me. And as far as anybody is concerned, the world thinks you're dead. So don't go making yourself known. I own you now."

And with that, Mustang turned around and marched out of the building, making his way back to the car with Riza in tow.

"Sir, are you sure you want to let him go? If the president were to find out-,"

"He won't find out, I'll make sure of it. But if Havoc can give me intel on the Fullmetal, then he is an asset I can't afford to lose."

His blonde inferior smiled. "And the president?"

"Him? I'll tell him I killed the son of a bitch. If there is any sign of distrust I'll call Havoc and tell him to scram. It took us this long to find him, if that asshole keeps moving like he has been then there will be no way the president will find out." The raven-locked man glanced over to his lieutenant with a grin, "Besides, I don't give a damn about him or his orders. I'm just doing what I have to in order to make it to the top. The more people I have on _my_ chess board the better, because there are only so many pieces to a game; and the one who controls the most, wins."

The duo weaved their way through the slums, earning glances and whispers as they headed for the car. All it would take was one person, one brave soul to take a shot. One bullet and Mustang would be dead, Fullmetal and Al wouldn't be chased around by him, and maybe in time someone with compassion for the world would take the presidential seat. But instead the blue coated soldier marched with an aura of death, striking fear in to the hearts of anyone whom caught a glimpse. Fear truly was the greatest weapon of all.

"Are we going to the diner then?" Hawkeye suggested, her car door creaking closed.

"Yes." replied Mustang, turning the key to start the car. "As far as Jean goes, it took us a 'detour' to chase him down. After we caught up with him I burnt him to an unrecognizable crisp."

The lieutenant nodded, watching as the people and buildings passed by her window.

"And if the president asks for a body verification?"

Roy shrugged, "There are plenty of people in this world Hawkeye. I need only to pick one."

The soldiers made their way out of the slums and back onto the main road, heading straight for North of Nowhere. Riza gave a small sigh as they drove on. She admired Roy beyond measure, but she'd be lying if she didn't admit that there were times the man sent a chill down her spine.

* * *

"Aw, sweet!" Alphonse exclaimed as his dart landed close to the bulls eye. "Try and beat that one!"

Edward chuckled and took a sip from his beer. "I told you kid, I'm no good at darts."

The boy hung his shoulders and pouted. "C'mon, just come over here and play a game. Just one okay?"

Fullmetal heaved a sigh, setting down his mug to get up. He had to admit though, it was kind of nice seeing Al feeling a bit better. He just hoped that nothing would happen to change that.

"Fine, hand me some."

Al grabbed some darts and set them in the elder's hand. Ed took one and twirled it between his metal digits, observing the board as he played with the piece. After a moment, the outlaw held his arm up in aim, squinting as his toss made contact with the wall _next_ to the round dartboard.

"Damn. You suck at this," the boy teased, looking over to see the blond shrug.

"Here, let me try again." Edward held his hand up in aim again, rocking the dart back and forth in the air before launching it a second time. To Al's surprise the piece landed in the exact same spot as the first, knocking it down to the floor.

"Aww shit, I missed again. Hope third time's a charm."

This time, however, the Fullmetal didn't squint, aim, or prepare for the throw in anyway. He just flung his arm at the wall, hitting the same mark as before. Alphonse's jaw dropped as the second dart joined the other on the floor.

"D-Did you just...," the boy stuttered as the outlaw took his seat again.

"What? I told you I suck at darts. Besides I'm pro'lly a little drunk right now."

Edward chuckled and finished off his mug of beer, setting the glass down with a loud bang. "But it was kind of fun."

"You ass!" Al exclaimed, taking a seat next to his elder. "You have no mercy do you?"

"Cats."

"Wait, what?" the younger wondered.

"Cats." Ed repeated. "I've never seen one that I haven't felt bad for. They invoke mercy in me."

Alphonse just shook his head. "You more than a little drunk, aren't you?"

"Maybe. We had best get going."

"And drive? Don't you know you can't drive after you've gotten drunk?!"

Fullmetal just grinned and stood up with a slight wobble. "Kid, this ain't my first rodeo."

Before either of them could take another step, the diner owner came out of the kitchen with a worried expression.

"W-wait! You guys can't leave just yet!"

Both Ed and Al glanced at each other before replying in unison.

"Why not?"

Trying to buy some time, the owner glanced back at the kitchen.

"D-don't you want some takeout? I can make a box for you real fast before hitting the road. It won't take long."

Edward stared at the man for a moment before replying. "Sure. Al, go wait in the car."

"You mean on the bike right?" the boy corrected.

"Yeah, that. Go wait outside."

Alphonse sensed the sudden tension in the outlaw's words, heeding them as he silently walked through the door.

"Ok," the bartender began, "let me, um, go make that for you real quick and I'll be right back-,"

Before the owner could make his way to the kitchen, however, the sound of a gun cocking froze him in his tracks.

"A take out box, huh?" the red coat challenged, his voice anything but friendly.

The man slowly turned around, hands up in surrender. To his surprise the outlaw that stood before him was no longer drunk- he was stone sober. With a glare that would make the devil himself feel the fires of hell, you wouldn't have guessed the Fullmetal was even _close_ to any type of alcohol.

"B-but I thought you were drunk...,"

His sentence fell short, however. Whether it was all an act, or somehow the outlaw could trigger a sudden sober-up, he was unsure of. The only thing the bartender was certain of was the shotgun staring him down.

"Who did you call?"

The man shrugged in an attempt at innocence. "I don't know what you mean."

Edward's glare intensified as he took a few steps closer. "Want to try that again?"

At this point, the owner would have sworn if he didn't say something right, his brains would be decorating the wall.

"O-okay look! I'll talk alright? Just chill out! The man I called is named Havoc, ok? He's-he's an informant for the rebellion, some kind of military deserter, I swear! He pays me to keep an eye out for certain people of interest, and you happen to be one of them!"

"That's all?"

"Yeah, I swear it! I just gave him a call to let you know you were here, that's all! Whatever he does next isn't my problem...,"

No sooner did the man finish his plea when the end of the Fullmetal's shotgun slammed into the owners head, knocking him to the floor unconscious.

"Bastard...,"

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" came a cry as Alphonse came crashing through the door, pausing his own distress to observe the grounded threat.

"I-is he-,"

"No, he's just unconscious. What's the matter?"

Snapping back to his concern, the boy just stuttered something unintelligible and pointed to the door. Ed, thinking someone showed up for them, pushed passed the younger and barreled outside. But to his surprise it was just an empty wasteland. Looking around for the threat, a small white spec caught his attention.

"What the hell?"

"Yeah...," Al replied "What is it?"

All around them small white flakes came falling from the sky, picking up the pace as their numbers grew greater and greater like an army recruiting for war.

"Shit. I've heard about this. Al, we need to get inside now."

"Why, what is it?" Al inquired.

"Snow. Supposedly it only happens once every hundred years, but I though it was a damned myth. We need to get inside."

The outlaw went back inside with the boy in tow. The elder shut and locked the door, looking out the window to find the snow multiplying quicker and quicker.

"What's snow?" Alphonse questioned again.

Being proactive, Ed turned and picked up the knocked out owner, dragging him to the pantry.

"Hey, look around for some restraints."

With a huff, the boy complied and began rummaging through drawers and cabinets until he found a well-used roll of duct tape.

"Will this work?"

"Yeah, toss it over."

A swing of an arm later and the duct tape landed in Ed's palm. The blonde ripped a piece and bit it off with his teeth, tying the man to the pantry's larder.

"Well, I guess that'll do."

Al nodded in approval. "Yeah, looks good."

"So snow," the Fullmetal began, walking over to one of the diners several booths and taking a seat. "It's supposedly a natural phenomenon that occurs once every one hundred years. They say that the clouds freeze up and come falling down in clusters."

"Whoa, so you mean that clouds are falling from the sky?"

Ed nodded, reclining back in the booth. "Yeah, I guess so."

Outside the diner a barrage of snowflakes came tumbling down, coating the hard wasteland with a frozen mystery. The pair of drifters sat quietly inside, watching as the snow built up more and more. It wasn't long before there was a foot of snow on the ground, then two feet, and finally three. The moonlight had already subsided for the day, leaving the stars twinkling overhead. It truly was a sight to behold- a vast nothingness of white all around them, the stars shining down into the blanket to make it sparkle. On the horizon sat Saturn, its beauty tripled with the new fallen snow. It was like a picture from a calendar, but instead of a cozy cabin and a chimney of smoke; it was an old diner and a pair of unwanted outlaws.

"Wow, it's really beautiful...," mused Al, eyes wide in wonder.

"Yeah, looks like the clouds came to us."

A chill subsided in the room, causing the duo to shiver.

"Got pretty cold in here."

Alphonse curled up and nodded. "Y-yeah."

Edward couldn't help but notice the distant look in Al's eyes. It was like his entire being suddenly shifted from his usual self to a more quiet, somber kid. He couldn't quite describe it, but it was like the happy, fun, and energetic Al drifted off to a silent place; leaving a broken and quiet one behind. Like everything was a distraction, and his hurt, pain, and loneliness came flooding back. For a moment he just watched as the young boy stared out the window, the stars reflecting in his watery eyes.

With a snap of his fingers, the red coat stood up and headed for the kitchen. "Stay here, I'm going to make something."

"Okay...,"

"Just sit still and be patient," was the reply form the kitchen. Some bangs and clangs could be heard along with some glass shattering, a noise that Al guessed was dropped plates. After a while, the whistle from a tea kettle filled the room to let them know water had been boiled. It wasn't long before the elder appeared with two mugs, setting one on the table in front of Alphonse.

"Ta da."

Peering into the mug, the boy was surprised to find a dark liquid rippling inside.

"It's chocolate soup," Ed explained. "It's a chocolate bar melted in some boiling water. Try it."

Alphonse reluctantly tipped the cup to his lips, taking a small sip and burning his mouth.

"Shit!" he cried, puckering to cool the heat.

Edward could only laugh. "You have to let it cool."

After blowing on it and letting the chocolate soup set for a bit, he braved another taste.

"Eh, its pretty good."

"I know right? Think I should take up culinary?"

The blond boy shrugged with a frown. "Yeah, don't think that suits you."

"Yeah," agreed the outlaw. "I don't do aprons."

They sat and sipped in silence for a while, staring out at the fantasy landscape.

"Ever heard of Christmas?" asked Ed.

"What?" Alphonse replied.

"Christmas. Supposedly a long time ago people celebrated it as a holiday. I guess they believed that a really fat guy in a red suit gave everyone presents."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they would put cookies out for him. it was like an offering of thanks. He watched over everyone as they slept and judged them according to their deeds. If they were deemed worthy they would receive the gifts they asked for. If the man saw them as evil, he turned them into a lump of coal."

Al let out a disturbed chuckle. "This guy sound like a narcissistic creep."

"Yeah... I guess he also rode on a giant sleigh and made deer pull him around with all the gifts."

"Now that's just animal cruelty."

Alphonse took another sip from his cup. "You know, chocolate soup is a pretty shitty name."

Ed shrugged. "You have a better one?"

The boy thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, how about hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, you know, its hot and its chocolate. I thought it was pretty self explanatory."

"I like the soup better," Edward challenged. "It makes it sound more professional, like a culinary masterpiece."

"You know we'll probably be the only two who ever thought of this. It isn't exactly a breakout recipe."

"Eh, I like it." the outlaw concluded.

The two fell silent again, growing heavy eyed as the time passed on.

"What would you ask for?" Edward finally asked.

Alphonse pondered for a moment, peering out the window in a wistful thought. He was quiet for a moment as if a thousand wishes came to mind, all of them regrets he could fix.

"I'd wish... I'd wish for Nina to come back," he finished in a barley audible tone, curling up in a ball with his knees to his chest. Ed didn't say anything. What could he say? All he could do was stare out the window and let Al grieve. Tears stained the boys cheeks before his eyelids began to grow heavy, drifting off into an uneasy slumber.

On that night regrets, pain, hurt, and sorrow were the only gifts received. No joy, no happiness was in the air. For a while they had fun, for a bit their worries faded away to games and drink. But it was all an attempt to bury the demons inside. It truly brought a new meaning to a silent night.

* * *

 _Salutations! Yeah, I'm still alive, hahaha!_

 _Wow! I cant believe it's been a year and a half since my last update! I was so excited, but so nervous to post this new chapter. I was like, "I wonder if any of my old readers are still reading fanfics? Or even still into FMA or any other anime? I wonder if there will be new people to enjoy my story, new smiles I can make."_

 _Honesty, I hoped you guys didn't give up on me completely, haha!_

 _Life just got crazy, and I had to grow up. Scratch that... I'm STILL trying to grow up. Even at 20... with a job and bills to pay... I just want to be a kid! Seriously!_

 _But anywho, I never gave up on this story and I always planned on continuing even if I didn't know it. I'm so excited to see you guys again, and to meet any new readers! I still mean it when I say your guys' support is what keeps me going and makes me smile beyond measure. So thank you!  
_

 _ _And Merry Christmas! I hope everyone had a blessed Christmas Day! I guess you could think of this update as a Christmas surprise, hehe.__

 _ _Nope. I didn't plan that, honestly.__

 _ _~Your friend, 26 Combo__


	15. Chapter 14

**~Chapter 14~**

It truly was a sight to behold, the way the daytime moonlight made the snow sparkle, with stars dotting the bright blue sky. There were no footprints, disturbances, or packed snow out in the barren wasteland; just an even, thick layer of powder. Saturn continued to orbit on the horizon, watching over the world with wonder. It was a phenomenon that occurred only once every hundred years over the entire planet, transforming the space rock into a cosmic snowball. The winter wonderland however, as beautiful as it was, could only keep residence for a couple days before taking leave for another century. Once the brief winter subsided, the duo took a step outside to stretch their legs, grateful for the fresh air.

"Kind of got cramped in there," Ed complained.

Alphonse nodded in agreement and stretched out, rolling his shoulders and twisting his torso. "Yeah, it feels good to get some outside air."

They exchanged a glance and looked around with a small frown. The world was as it was, a vast, open, dried up desert. Despite all the snow the ground remained as dusty and hard as ever, as if it never fell in the first place.

"You know, I was wondering," began Alphonse curiously. "Why didn't the guy that bartender called show up...?"

The Fullmetal gave a shrug in response. "Dunno. I was wondering the same thing. I could have sworn that once he ratted us out some rebel enthusiast wanting my head would show up. Maybe the snow saved us."

What they didn't know, however, was that Mustang _was_ on his way with murderous intent... until the snow started falling. With frustration and a dictionary's worth of cuss words, Roy and Riza ended up snowed in on the side of the road, their car obviously not built for the weather. Roy _would_ have pulled out his ignition gloves to clear the way, but Riza decided to take advantage of their stuck situation and keep warm in a much more... enjoyable way. What the soldiers didn't plan on, however, was that between the foreplay and unexpected kinkiness Roy's gloves would get ruined in ways best not stated.

"Yeah, I guess the snow saved our asses," Al agreed.

Edward walked over to his bike and sat down, taking out his key and starting the bike to make sure it would turn over.

"That's my girl," the outlaw grinned when the bike started without hesitation. A few minutes later and he shut the engine off.

"Hey, there's somewhere I want to go," Edward said, looking to Alphonse. "Well, I mean, its a somewhere _and_ a some _one_. Someone I want you to meet."

Al gave a shrug in approval. "Yeah, sure. I don't have anywhere better to be."

"It's actually a bit of a drive, but its worth it once you get there."

Alphonse nodded and sat on the bike behind his elder. "Wait," he said suddenly, craning his neck to look at the diner. "What about that guy we tied up?"

Edward waved his hand in dismissal, "Eh, I left a knife next to him. He'll get out."

"By cutting the tape with his feet?" Al protested in disbelief.

"Yeah, survival will make a man do some amazing shit you know."

"But-,"

Before the younger could argue, however, he was cut off by the loud engine of the bike. With a sigh he shook his head, unable to suppress his grin. The outlaw sure was a character...

"Besides," Ed tagged on once they started rolling. "We need the head start."

North of Nowhere gradually got smaller and smaller as they made their way through the wasteland, disappearing into the distance behind them like a memory. The blond outlaw and his younger companion rode on, only thoughts and brief conversations to keep them company. Al wasn't sure where they were going, but he honestly didn't care. He had no type of a life, no stability, no home. This kind of life, running around and never staying put... it was soothing in a way. It was like a new start everyday, a new chance to do something _right_. Every person, building, and town was just temporary. In that way nothing could hurt him. Maybe that's why he liked Edward, why he felt like a big brother. Sure, Edward was crude, cussed a lot, trigger happy, and a total badass. But in his own way Ed protected him, made him feel _safe_. He could never get over the Storm Riders incident, but with the outlaw in front of him maybe he could at least move on. Maybe this is what never forgetting and never forgiving meant? Maybe this is what shapes people into who they are- not just the hardships they encounter, but who they choose to be afterwards.

Several hours had passed before a voice rose over the wind, interrupting Al's train of thoughts entirely.

" _Kid_ ," Ed repeated, clearly having asked the question before.

"What?" Alphonse finally responded, blinking.

The red coat chuckled, "I thought you either fell off or fell asleep."

"Shut up," Al joked in return, laughing lightly.

"How are you holding up?"

"Good," the boy returned. "You?"

"I'm fine. Listen, coming up is where I get my gas. It's a bad place since everyone fights over it... territory wars and shit like that. So stick close to me and if anything happens, don't leave my sight. Got it?"

Alphonse shuddered and nodded. "Yeah... got it."

Not long afterwards the riders came upon a massive junk yard of cars that randomly and sporadically dotted the landscape. It was as if hundreds of drivers parked their cars and walked away to let them rust and rot. There was no sign, entrance, or fencing. Just hundreds of automobiles sitting out in the open, wasting away.

"Most of them still have gas," Ed informed. "We just need to get enough gas to fill my tank, then scram."

The junkyard came into view, small at first but gradually growing larger as they grew closer. Before long the two found themselves slowly weaving between rotting and beaten cars.

"This is actually kind of cool," Al mused, a small smile on his face. They continued the search for a car, wandering through the field of metal before coming to a stop.

"Here we go," Ed approved.

"Why this one? Why not the several others we passed?"

"Because," the outlaw began, getting off his bike and walking over to the sedan. He rapped on the rusted fender fondly, "This is a Royce. It was a car owned by the rich; my parents had one. They required higher octane gas to run. Its better and doesn't caramelize as quick as lower quality gas."

Alphonse nodded, watching as the red-coat popped the hood and leaned in. A handful of seconds later he reemerged with a hose in his hand.

"What's that?" the younger questioned.

"Vacuum line," Ed replied, walking over to the tank and opening the cap. "It's just a rubber hose, but it'll let me syphon it out."

The outlaw walked back over to his bike and motioned for Al to get off before pushing it next to the car. He stuck one end of the hose in the newfound tank before sucking on the line like a straw, spitting out gas occasionally. Soon, gas started to syphon through the tube and into the Fullmetal's tank.

"And there you have it," Ed grinned, watching satisfactorily as the liquid poured out. Alphonse marveled at the sight.

"That's freaking awesome," he mumbled.

They watched as the liquid made its way from the car to the motorcycle like some kind of magic trick. But to both their disappointment, however, the gas suddenly stopped after a short while.

"Shit. There wasn't much in here," Ed grumbled.

The Fullmetal pulled the hose from the car and sighed, looking around for another worthy contender. There were so many cars that they just started to blend together in an array of brown and orange rust.

"I guess we'll just syphon the next car. It's better than staying here too long," Edward decided, pushing his bike to the new car. The outlaw opened the gas cap again and repeated the same process, but nothing came out.

"You have to be kidding me...," he snorted.

It was empty.

"We'll just try another one, right?" Alphonse encouraged.

Ed kicked the car's tire in frustration before nodding. "Yeah."

Hopping from tank to tank, the two of them attempted to find some gasoline. Some had a little bit while others were completely dry. Ed knew that the longer they stayed here the more of a chance they had of coming across some kind of maniac. Several automobiles and some cuss words later, they finally found one with a steady amount of gas in it.

"Damn time," the outlaw sighed.

The gas fluently pored from the four wheeler to the two wheeler, leaving the pair to wait.

"So where are we going?" Al asked with a smile, trying to hide the small amount of childish excitement currently bubbling up inside.

"I think you'll like it," the Fullmetal replied, smiling back. "It's a place like no other. It's as if it doesn't even belong on this planet. Plus, there's someone there I haven't seen in a very long time."

Alphonse sighed and stared wistfully out into the sky, wondering what this magical place would be like. Maybe it could be a refuge for them for some time? Give them a break from all the running; he had to admit, hours on a motorcycle that wasn't built for comfort could sure take a toll on your butt.

"That should be good," Edward suddenly approved, capping the gas tank on his bike before chucking the hose. "Lets roll on out of here."

Al nodded and sat down on the bike, waiting for the elder to follow suit. Moments later the engine started up again and they took off into the wind.

"You sure this was dangerous? It felt pretty empty," Alphonse wondered aloud.

"Sometimes," Ed answered. "I just like to play it safe."

And with that they rode into the horizon, growing smaller and smaller until they were swallowed up.

* * *

"They gone?" a sultry and seductive voice inquired.

"Yeah, they're gone," a second voice replied.

The first voice sighed and looked over to find her bald, obese partner sleeping against one of the junked cars.

"Why did we even bring you along, Gluttony?" she whined. The giant man continued to sleep, ignorant to her musing.

"It was Greed's orders. The whole team was to observe the Fullmetal's movement and report back," replied a middle-aged man with a broad mustache and an eye patch.

"You're such a loyal dog, Wrath," complained a third figure, rolling his eyes and brushing aside his long, spiky hair.

"And be like you, Envy? You're a ticking time bomb of sporadic chaos. You need to be more strategic," Wrath retorted.

"Just calm down," Pride replied, walking into the scene.

"And where were you?" questioned Lust, sighing before looking away. "Never mind, I don't care."

"We are the elite team of the devil himself, the Sinful Six! Why the hell are we on a babysitting mission?!" Envy shouted, kicking up dirt.

"It's all a part of Greed's master plan. Soon we'll rule this whole world. A world with no government, no outlaws, no weaklings... we will be gods among men," recited Wrath, still looking out into the wasteland with binoculars. Envy scoffed.

"Whatever."

A low rumble suddenly arose.

"So... tired..." a deep voice complained. Envy walked over to a big muscular guy that had just arrived- and towered over them, even while sitting.

"Soon enough big guy," he reassured.

The Sinful Six, comprised of codenames Gluttony, Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, and Pride. They were the top soldiers among the Rebellion, each one loathing the government as much as Greed himself. They were stone cold, calculating, chaotic, destructive, loyal, and boasted a lack of conscience. No one wanted to cross swords with them- and no one ever lived if they did. They were the stories told around a campfire, the bumps in the night and the devils of hell. Their reputation was surpassed by only one man: the Fullmetal. Knowing this, they were all to eager to find and kill him. Or at least be there when their leader, Greed, did.

"Do we pack up and keep going?" Lust inquired.

"No, lets head back and report to Greed. We've been following the Fullmetal and his tow-along for weeks now. We've watched their every move. It's time to go."

"And who the hell put you in charge Wrath?" Envy pouted, complying and turning to head back with the others.

* * *

Long periods of silence, breaks, and camping summed up Ed and Al's journey. They rode on for hours each day before finding a suitable place to stop for the night. Sometimes it was under a small outcrop of a boulder, other times it was right where they stopped the bike. Either way they always slept uneasy, fearful of predators, bandits, other outlaws, or watching eyes. The nights were cold, sometimes almost freezing- leaving them shivering and numb. When daybreak came around the duo would wake up, eat some morsels of rations Ed kept in the saddle of his bike, and take off again. It wasn't complete wasteland they encountered; some abandoned buildings and traveling nomads dotted their travels and provided a much needed source of either shelter, information, or entertainment. At one time, they even encountered a traveling merchant who claimed to hold the secret to immortality... for a price, of course. Edward offered to mug the guy, but Al convinced him it wasn't their problem if he was scamming people. They never did see him again, and his whereabouts were a mystery to them. But with as crazy as this world was, they just might have passed up an opportunity at eternal life. Or maybe not. In this world, that gift might have been more of a curse than anything.

It was a week before they drew close to their ever anticipated destination, the past days being rough and tiresome. Alphonse's curiosity grew bigger every day, but once they were only an hour out it began to explode. He had _never_ traveled this far before, so he had no idea what was waiting ahead. Was it a new city? A small town? An inn with soft, comfy beds? Was it a new diner with delicious food? His heart couldn't take it anymore. When the destination came into view, however, it exceeded any wild imagination he could conjure up.

Before them stood a village, but not a village Al had ever known to exist. It was small and quaint, built of many spherical brick houses that looked just like giant igloos, except for their masonry composition and tan color. The round homes had triangle doors and round windows with smoke coming out of their chimneys, some homes being more of an oval shape than round. It was a self-sustained community with a lumber mill, farms, a tailor, a black smith, and villagers bustling about. That wasn't what amazed Alphonse, however- it was the vast green meadow the village sat on. It was the way the lush, tall grass swayed in the wind, and a bubbling creek carved its way through the homes. It was the way animals were out grazing, farmers were plowing and gardening, and others labored and kept busy. It was straight out of a fantasy world. Al's jaw dropped in complete and utter awe.

"We finally made it," Ed greeted nobody in particular, finally entering the beautiful village. They slowly drove past many houses, leaving a trail of smashed grass until they stopped at what Alphonse guessed to be the home of Ed's friend.

"This is the place."

Before Edward could put his kickstand down, however, a man came crashing through the door with a huge smile.

"Edward!" he cried out, racing to the outlaw. Alphonse looked at him in shock, wondering how the man knew the outlaw's real name.

"Hey, long time no see," Ed replied, getting up only to be tackled in a hug.

"It's been years! I thought you finally died out there! How have you been?"

The blond pushed away from the hug and chuckled at the bombardment of questions.

"You haven't changed a bit, huh?"

The man chuckled and smiled, finally noticing Al.

"Hey, what's up with the kid?" he asked, his smile still lingering.

Alphonse suddenly felt self conscience, forgetting to say hi as he stared up at the stranger. He had no idea there was someone else on a first-name basis with Ed.

"This is Alphonse," Edward introduced before turning to Al. "Alphonse, this ugly son of a bitch is my long time friend; Maes Hughes."

Maes gave Ed a playful slug on the arm, whimpering when it connected with the auto mail instead of the flesh counterpart.

"Nice to meet you Alphonse, you must be hungry," he greeted, rubbing his sore hand.

"Um... yeah, nice to meet you too," was Al's response.

"Why don't you both come inside? We have a lot of catching up to do."

Edward took his friend's invitation and led the way inside. "I guess I'll take a seat, as long as you have some beer."

Hughes laughed and followed the red-coat inside. " _Now_ whose the one who hasn't changed?"

* * *

Mustang sighed and the pen dropped from his hand, rolling off the desk and onto the floor. Burdened and tired, he rested his head on his hand just in time to see Riza standing in the doorway.

"Sir," she greeted with a soft smile, walking in with a file in her hands. The... snowstorm... was still fresh in her mind, and she was in a slightly lighter mood than usual. "The president just approved your statement on Havoc. He is officially dead."

Mustang grinned and beckoned her to sit down. Taking the file and flipping through it, he was pleased to see everything in order.

"Good- then we were successful. Havoc is dead in the eyes of the government and I have a mole in the rebellion. Things are looking up."

"Even though we missed our shot at the Fullmetal?" she inquired.

To her surprise, Roy just smiled at her and sat back in his chair, intertwining his fingers in his lap. It was a contradiction to his usual bloodthirsty self.

"Yeah. You showed me that it's okay to... take some time to enjoy life. Besides, I have Havoc reporting to me, the president in the dark, and a beautiful lieutenant by my side. I'm practically a god."

Riza couldn't help but love the man before her. Right or wrong, he captured her heart. Where many saw egotistical, she saw determination and a set mind. To her his bloodlust and cold heart were just decisive actions to achieve his goals. His anger and aggression? Well, that was just hot.

"I've acquired some new intel as well."

Riza tilted her head slightly. "Yeah?"

"Havoc. He reports to the big guy himself," Roy informed.

"Wait. Greed?"

"Yeah. So as I see it. What Greed knows, Havoc knows. What Havoc knows, I know. Soon I won't have to _find_ the Fullmetal anymore, I'll have enough connections to know his every move. Then... then it's just a matter of picking the right time to make my move and end both the Fullmetal _and_ the rebellion."

A determined smile grew on Roy's face, a burning fire within his eyes.

"Soon. Things will change very soon."

* * *

 _Hey Guys! Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a great time! I cant believe its 2018... Dang!_

 _So yeah, this is the start of the next Arc! This idea came to me and I was like: "Yup... totally yes. I have to write this. Like. Now."_

 _Hahaha! There is a lot more to this village, but I couldn't reveal it ALL in one chapter right? Honestly this chapter was a lot longer but I decided to space out the information/ plot twist bombs. Yeah, I just realized that was a dumb was of saying it but I don't know what else to call it! So yeah, I guess you could call it:_

 _"A strategically spacing of relevant information that aids in the color and lore of the universe, designed to provide optimal number of surprises and revelations about said story."_

 _Hmm. lets go with that one XD_

 _With this new Arc, I have a lot planned and written out in my head. I hope you guys are going to like it! I'm already getting excited to start on the next chapter!_

 _And... 100 REVIEWS! I was so excited! I wasn't sure how many people would like or come back to my story after such a LONG... intermission? Can we call it that? Anyway, it totally rocked my world, and I want to say THANK YOU! to everyone's support. I love hearing feedback, questions, constructive criticism, and predictions. It really and truly makes me smile! You guys are the best!_

 _I cant wait to see you in the next chapter! Have a blessed day!_

 _~26 Combo_


End file.
